


Close to Home, Near the Bone

by Venus_The_Space_Cadet



Series: Of Wings and Words [1]
Category: Fargo (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mutants, Childhood Friends, Developing Friendships, F/F, F/M, Family Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 47,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venus_The_Space_Cadet/pseuds/Venus_The_Space_Cadet
Summary: Wesley doesn't remember anything before the orphanage. His early childhood memories were constrained to the four pale-blue walls of the nursery, surrounded by used toys and children that stopped trying to play with him when he wouldn’t answer their calls. Nobody would bother him, no kids or hopeful parents, only the staff member in charge of taking the kids to their small dining room to eat and then to bed in the communal bedroom. It was easy for the staff members to let him exist in his silent world until he was legally required to start going to school, and that’s when they realized that having a quiet deaf kid who kept to himself wasn’t actually great news. They scrambled with him, unsure about how to teach him anything when he would just stare at them blankly, unsure of what to do with himself.That’s when they decided to hire a specialist.
Relationships: Mr. Numbers/Mr. Wrench (Fargo)
Series: Of Wings and Words [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963780
Comments: 13
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to all the wonderful people who supported me during this fic writing process! Special thanks to @winterwinterwinter for their wonderful editing skills and putting up with my ugly grammar. Can't wait to continue this writing journey with yall!

Wesley doesn’t remember anything before the orphanage. His early childhood memories were constrained to the four pale-blue walls of the nursery, surrounded by used toys and children that stopped trying to play with him when he wouldn’t answer their calls. To this day, he can still remember his favorite spot beneath the single window in the room, looking up at the dustmites that would float down when the warm breeze made the sheer curtains dance. Nobody would bother him, no kids or hopeful parents, only the staff member in charge of taking the kids to their small dining room to eat and then to bed in the communal bedroom. It was easy for the staff members to let him exist in his silent world until he was legally required to start going to school, and that’s when they realized that having a quiet deaf kid who kept to himself wasn’t actually great news. They scrambled with him, unsure about how to teach him anything when he would just stare at them blankly, unsure of what to do with himself. 

That’s when they decided to hire a specialist. 

Wesley doesn’t remember anything before the orphanage, but he does remember the way his life was turned upside down by a gentle hand on his shoulder and kind dark eyes above a well-kept black beard. Mr. Berzinski was a lean man of average height, with curly hair the color of ink and a small smile he would flash at every person he made eye contact with. He would always wear black dress pants and a button up shirt, either white or pale blue, and his hair was always combed back nicely, as was his beard. But above all, he was kind and he was patient, showing Wesley how to communicate with his hands and his eyes and his expressions. He walked him through the basics and then beyond, taught him how to speak a few words with a voice he couldn't hear and a throat he learned to control, and he became Wesley’s absolute favorite person. 

Mr. Berzinski walked into Wesley's life when he was only five years old, and by age seven, Wesley was top of his class and had even managed to make a few friends. He carried a pen and paper to communicate with the orphanage staff and other kids, and every weekday at nine in the morning, he would be waiting in his designated conference room for Mr. Berzinski to arrive and tutor him for the day. 

Wesley could no longer imagine a life without Mr. Berzinski. He would always answer his questions and reply to his remarks, would always laugh at his jokes (his thin shoulders would shake and his mouth would open wide with a joyful smile), and even when Wesley became old enough to understand that this was Mr. Berzinski’s job, he still knew deep down that they truly enjoyed each other's company. And even on the days when he would begin to doubt it, Mr. Berzinski would find a way to make him feel reassured. 

However, Wesley was eight years old when he became aware that Mr. Berzinski had a life outside of being his sole teacher and educator. Mr. Berzinski would always place his wallet and keys on the desk before sitting down to teach Wesley their designated topic of the day. One cool fall day, however, in the midst of signing about a historical event, Mr. Berzinski swept his arms out and knocked both items off the table. It took only a moment and a quick apology to collect them, but Wesley saw the set of pictures that slipped out of the wallet onto the wooden floor.

_My family,_ Mr. Berzinski had signed. Wesley looked at him with wide eyes, as if suddenly realizing that this man existed outside of the orphanage, before berating himself. Of course he did, he was a normal man with a normal life outside of this awful building. His expression made Mr. Berzinski laugh, his thin shoulders shaking, before he pulled the pictures out of the wallet and slid them across the table. 

Wesley looked down at three separate tiny squares, his fingers inching forward to touch them before he quickly pulled them back, afraid to tarnish them in any way. A woman with black hair pulled up in a tight bun with angular features and deep set brows and intense dark eyes stared back at him.

_My wife, F-A-I-N-A,_ Mr. Berzinski spelled Wesley nodded, shifting his attention to the next picture. There was a small girl, whose upper half of her face reminded Wesley of Mr. Berzinski, with kind eyes above a small smile made up of Faina’s lips. Her hair was pulled into tight braids, although their ends suggested wild hair tamed into submission. _My daughter, M-I-C-H-A-E-L-L-E. She is three years old. You would like her, she is very kind and can’t hear well, like you._ Mr. Berzinski explained. Wesley’s eyebrows shot up.

_Is that why you know sign language?_ Wesley asked. Mr. Berzinski nodded, 

_My wife and son are learning for her. I already knew._ He signed, a smile forming as he looked down at his daughter’s picture. Wesley smiled at that,

_That’s very nice of them._ He said, before looking down at the last picture. Wesley was almost surprised when his eyes met the same low-set brow and intense gaze he had seen from Faina just seconds ago. A boy, probably around his age, was looking at the camera with disgust. His mouth was set in a quasi-sneer and his shoulders were hunched. Dark wavy hair sat atop his head and Wesley could almost see the comb-lines that attempted to keep it plastered against his head. 

_And this is my demon child, G-R-A-D-Y._ Mr. Berzinski said, his shoulders heaving up as he let out a sigh. _He likes to fight, just like his mother. Gets into a lot of trouble. He’s your age._ He explained. Wesley smiled at that.

_He sounds fun._ He signed back. Mr. Berzinski laughed again, this time opening his mouth into a wide smile and shaking his head. 

_He is very fun. If I were his age we would be best friends,_ he assured. After a moment of looking at the pictures once more, Wesley carefully slid them back across the table. Mr. Berzinski thanked him and put them back in his wallet.

_Your family seems nice._ Wesley signed, observing as his teacher nodded at his comment.

_They are very nice. I love them very much._ He signed, a content smile upon his face. He contemplated something before smiling at Wesley once again, and signing, _Maybe you could meet them one day? I'm sure M-I-C-H-A-E-L-L-E would enjoy your company._

Wesley had smiled at that, a warm feeling swelling up in his stomach at the prospect of meeting Mr. Berzinski's family. 

For a whole six years of his life, from the moment Mr. Berzinski had showed up on the steps of the orphanage, to the day of his 11th birthday (which he had decided would be the day after Mr. Berzinski's birthday so that he could bring him cake), Wesley had truly believed his life had good chances of being okay. Being top of his class meant that more parents were interested in adopting him, even if his deafness ultimately drove all of them away. But Mr. Berzinski would always remind him that there was for sure a wonderful ASL-speaking family out there, and that he just had to wait for them to come around. And deep down, Wesley started believing him. He started trying to dress nice and comb his hair whenever he knew potential parents were visiting, and worked on his handwriting to make it as legible as possible, ensuring that anybody who would read his notebook would understand exactly what he was trying to say. He felt motivated to do well and make Mr. Berzinski proud, show him that he could get adopted and then, maybe Mr. Berzinski could be his tutor in his nice new home with his nice new family. It was going to be perfect. 

But like most things in life, it wasn't. 

Wesley woke up a week after his eleventh birthday with a sore back. He felt a burn not unlike the sore back he developed when a bigger kid ran into him in 1st grade and crushed him into the concrete sidewalk. It came from deep in his shoulder blades, the sensation spreading like tendrils into his neck, lower back, and arms. As he lay in bed considering this new, strange feeling, the door to his room opened slowly. He looked up from his bed to see a tuft of blonde hair from Andrew, the staff member in charge of younger kids. As was customary, Andrew made eye contact with Wesley before smiling and waving, tapping his right hand’s forefinger on his watch to emphasize it was time to get up, and waited for Wesley to flash him a thumbs up before leaving the room. As Wesley sat up in his bed, he considered telling Andrew about his back. He had told him in the past whenever he felt sick, the blonde man kindly bringing him medicine and hot soup. But no, Wesley thought, today was Wednesday, which meant it was parent visit day. He didn’t feel sick, he reassured himself, he just needed to get up and move around a bit.

After cleaning himself up and having a good breakfast, Wesley started to feel accustomed to the warm sensation in his back. He brushed his teeth and straightened up to assess himself in the mirror. His strawberry blonde hair was neatly combed to the side and his sweater was clean, as well as his pants that Andrew had so kindly ironed for him. He nodded to himself, flashed himself some finger guns like Mr. Berzinski would always do, and made his way towards his designated meeting room. 

Mr. Berzinski was wearing his usual black pants and white shirt, his eyes looking up from a small book he was reading that fit perfectly into his thin hands. He smiled warmly at Wesley, standing up to give him a hug before they both sat down.

_Good morning W-E-S-L-E-Y,_ Mr. Berzinski signed, _how did you sleep?_

_Good, but my back is-_ Wesley considered the word he was looking for, _small hurt._

Mr. Berzinski gave him a quizzical look, _do you mean like when the big kid fell on you in 1st grade?_ He asked.

_Yes._ Wesley signed back. Mr. Berzinski gave him an understanding look, 

_You’re sore,_ he explained, showing Wesley the sign. Wesley repeated it a few times for good measure. _Do you have any bruising? Like the purple spots you had?_

Wesley paused at this, considering the question. 

_I don’t know,_ he signed, _I can’t see my back._

Mr. Berzinski gave a small laugh at this, _you’re right!_ He signed, _that’s very difficult to do! Would you like me to check for you?_

Wesley considered this as well. He could remember how ugly the purple spots had looked on his back when he was younger. He remembered Andrew holding an ice pack to his back and how uncomfortable it had been to sleep. He remembered how much the ice and the cream used to soothe his back had helped and decided that the sooner he could use some ice and cream again, the better.

_Yes, please._ Wesley signed. Mr. Berzinski nodded at him before standing up, Wesley following suit. 

_Want to pull your shirt up and point to where it hurts?_ He asked, and Wesley nodded. After a moment of fiddling with his sweater, he managed to grab the back hem and pull it up to his shoulders. With all the grace of an eleven year old, he held the bunched up material around his neck and used his other hand to pat at his shoulder blades, hissing when his hand made contact with the tender skin. Mr. Berzinski carefully walked around Wesley and soon he felt careful fingers prodding at his back. It felt uncomfortable, and after the same fingers came to press on the tender skin, Wesley let out a small squeak of discomfort. The hands immediately pulled away and Wesley let his sweater fall back into place, smoothing it carefully as he turned around to face Mr. Berzinski. 

_That hurts,_ Wesley said, trying to convey irritation in his expression. But Mr. Berzinski didn’t answer, instead his eyes were wide and his face was pale. Wesley paused, looking up at his tutor with confusion before taking a small step back, _Mr. B,_ he signed, _are you okay?_

Mr. Berzinski blinked, eyes fixed on Wesley, before he very slowly kneeled down. Wesley was suddenly nervous, Mr. B only ever kneeled down to talk to him when something was serious and he needed to make eye contact with him. Like the first time he told him that punching another kid wasn’t the answer, even if the other kid had started it, or when Wesley had become frustrated with his work and thrown a book across the room. As soon as Mr. B was at eye level with him, he placed both hands on Wesley’s shoulders, grounding him momentarily before he lifted them and began to sign.

_W-E-S-L-E-Y, can you do me a big favor?_

Wesley felt his stomach get heavy with how serious his tutor’s eyes were, but he nodded anyway. He would do anything for Mr. B. 

_Please promise me you won’t tell anybody about your back._ He signed, _at least for a few weeks, until it goes away, okay?_

It seemed like a strange favor to ask, but Mr. B looked serious and Wesley knew he would never hurt him. 

_Okay._ He signed, _I promise._

Mr. B looked relieved, _thank you, I promise it will only be for a little bit. It is very important that you don’t tell anybody, not even other kids okay?_

_Okay. I won’t._ Wesley assured. Mr. B sighed and nodded, before leaning in and giving Wesley a careful hug. Wesley returned it as he always did, albeit a bit confused about the whole situation.

_Alright, let me know how it feels in the next couple of days okay?_ Mr. B signed after letting go,

_Okay._ Wesley answered once again.

_Okay._ Mr. B repeated. He stood up and led them back to the table to sit down. The rest of the lesson continued as if their initial conversation had never happened. 

**…**

Five days after that fateful morning, Wesley woke up to a sharp pain erupting directly from his shoulder blades. He let out a sharp hiss and quickly rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow as he tried to ride out the wave of sensations. He came up for air with a gasp and realized he was sweating. _Maybe I should tell Andrew,_ Wesley thought. But then Mr. B’s kind and worried eyes appeared behind his eyelids and he shook his head. _No,_ he thought, _I promised. I’ll just tell Mr. B today._

It was early, earlier than he would usually wake up, but he had no intention of sleeping. He slowly crawled out of bed, making sure not to jostle his shoulders and back, before slowly walking out into the hallway. The orphanage was a large house with the first floor containing a large kitchen, a dining room, and three classrooms with a small conference room (where Wesley would have class), and the second floor consisted of two wings, one for girls and one for boys. Wesley’s room was one of the two single rooms located in each corner of the boy’s wing, with Andrew sleeping in the other one next to him. He was suddenly thankful to not have any roommates, as they would have certainly heard him wake up and sneak out of the room this early in the morning. Wesley assumed he was quiet, but he knew he would never know for sure. 

The sun wasn’t up yet, and the hallway was dark as he slowly felt his way to the bathroom. Once there, he fumbled around for the light switch before blinding himself with the fluorescent lights. After a few blinks, he made his way to one of the toilet stalls. Wesley wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep his sore back a secret from other people. He’d already refused to play tetherball with the other kids at the playground, _twice,_ which was unheard of for him. He was tall for his age and had strong arms, he was the champion of tetherball. Soon they would start asking him why he wasn’t playing, was everything okay? Should they call Andrew? Wesley contemplated this as he exited the toilet stall and began washing his hands, only to freeze when something caught his attention in the mirror. 

Why was he drenched in sweat? His pajama shirt was completely soaked, and he became acutely aware of how it stuck to his skin uncomfortably. He made a face and started peeling it off, when suddenly the fabric grazed the sensitive skin of his shoulder blades and he let out an involuntary grunt and hiss. He clamped a hand over his mouth, he knew he could be loud even without realizing it and he had to keep quiet if he wanted to keep his secret. After another attempt he managed to peel off his shirt and throw it in the sink before opening the faucet. He braced himself against the sink, taking deep breaths and looking up into the dirty mirror. What was happening to him? Before he could think it through, he slowly turned his body, trying to get a view of his back, when he felt his heart stop. 

Nestled between his shoulders and his spine were two sickeningly white protrusions. They were both about the size of his forearm, long and pale, and had white lines stemming from them. He felt his heartbeat drumming in his ears as he tried to turn as far as he could while keeping his eyes on the mirror, reaching back to trace them with shaking hands and shivering when he touched them. This wasn’t okay, this wasn’t normal, he had to tell Mr. B now. Wesley quickly shut off the water and wrung his nightshirt as quickly as he could before jogging into the hallway and into his room, locking the door quickly and dashing to his dresser to yank out a new shirt. He quickly and carefully put it on, avoiding his upper back as much as possible. He didn’t know what was happening to him, but he had to find out fast.

**…**

Mikhail Berzinski had started his Monday morning like he always did. He’d woken up, bothered and kissed his wife until she wacked him with a pillow and yelled at him to let her sleep a bit more, showered, got dressed, did his hair and beard, sang “Hava Nagila” obnoxiously loud and out of tune as he entered his kids’ room until Grady was throwing pillows at him to get out, and then headed to the kitchen to cook breakfast. He turned the radio on to the jazz station as he began to cook, and as he was setting the table, his wife showed up with two freshly washed and groomed kids, Michaelle looking content and fresh while Grady looked like he was ready to claw someone’s eyes out. They ate quickly, and while Faina took the kids to brush their teeth, he washed the dishes and turned off the radio. Within an hour and a half of waking up, Mikhail was exiting through the front door of their apartment complex, kissing his wife and then taking one kid in each hand as he walked them to school. 

Faina had managed to get a job at a newly established newspaper named the _Austin Chronicle_ as a columnist, and she was also part of the printing team. It had been three years since their opening in 1981, and they were thriving with an active and dedicated readership. Mikhail on the other hand had struggled to find a use for his linguistics education degree. He had almost considered calling it quits and becoming a stay-at-home husband when he heard that the local orphanage was looking for an ASL educator. He was the first candidate to show up and was given the job on the spot, and he loved it. 

“Remember me and Michaelle have to stay for baseball today instead of tomorrow because of the coach’s trip, so you have to pick us up at four because mom can’t.” Grady reminded his dad, 

“Ah, well, I might be staying a little later today so how about you stay with the Hatfields until I pick you up?” Mikhail suggested, suddenly realizing he had completely forgotten about the change of schedule today. Grady groaned,

“I hate the Hatfields! Max is a dumbass-”

“Language!” 

“He’s dumb,”

“Doesn’t make it much better, listen, I’ll be there at a quarter past four, it won’t be long and you can practice signing with Michaelle if you really don’t want to play with Max.” He suggested. Grady huffed and rolled his eyes, exactly like his mother would do when she was exasperated. Mikhail felt a tug at his other hand and turned his attention to Michaelle,

_What’s going on?_ She asked. At this point they had made it to the front gates of the school so Mikhail let go of both of his kids to sign for his daughter.

_You’ll be staying with Max after baseball because I will be late._ He explained. Michaelle nodded,

_Okay. I like Max._ Mikhail laughed at this and leaned down to give her a kiss on one of her big cheeks. 

_Have a good day sweetie, take care._ He signed, gave her a big hug, and turned to Grady who was looking at him with an unimpressed glare. Mikhail sighed,

“Love you too, kid,” he said, patting his son on the back and watching as Grady huffed, took Michaelle’s hand in his, and walked them into the building. After making sure the teacher had seen them and was escorting them in, he started heading towards the orphanage at a brisk pace. 

If he was being honest, Mikhail was scared. 

From the moment he had started teaching Wesley, he had loved the kid. He was curious, kind, incredibly smart, and dedicated. He had observed how Wesley had grown from being a shy and confused five year old to a confident, self-reliant eleven year old. He had every confidence that he would be adopted by a dedicated family and become an amazing young man one day. And he had hoped that he could continue to be in his life, maybe even just as a friend, as he grew older. He wanted his family to meet him and see what a great kid he was. Who knew, maybe Michaelle and Grady would even be friends with him. But that had all changed when he had seen Wesley’s back on that fateful Wednesday morning. 

Mikhail couldn’t remember much of the Soviet Union, he was young and both of his parents had taken him, their only child, out of Novosibirsk along with his cousin in 1958. Mikhail had been only eight years old, but he could still remember the public trials and the way that people would disappear mysteriously. He remembered watching his mother cry and his father bow his head at tall officials. In particular, though, he remembered the public mutant trials. 

He remembered a teenager hung publicly for all to see, his eyes closed as if in fitful sleep, with scales growing along his arms and a long tail hanging uselessly from his lower back. His family knew then and there that they had to get out. Now, Mikhail knew that Texas wasn’t the Soviet Union, but he had seen how mutants were treated around the world. Just because the public hatred wasn’t present here like it was in the Soviet Union didn’t mean it didn’t lurk in dark corners, fueled by furious politicians and extremists who believed mutants were a danger to them, even if they hadn’t met or seen a single mutant before. Mikhail tried not to dwell too much on what could happen to a mutant child in an orphanage, with nobody directly responsible for him. He had no idea what the staff of the orphanage thought of mutants, but he wasn’t ready to put Wesley’s safety on the line for it. That’s why, that same Wednesday, he had returned home to Faina, and after putting the kids to bed, he had sat her down on their bed and held her hands and told her he was going to foster Wesley. She was confused, angry even, that he had made this decision without her, but when he explained, her eyes softened and she held his face. 

“I support you, _ahuvi,_ we will give that boy a home, however temporary, until he can be safe.” She stated, her voice calm yet commanding. He almost started crying, but she berated him and told him to stop being a baby before kissing him. 

He had spoken to the staff immediately after. He knew the process could take up to three months at best, but he had faith that it would be enough time to continue hiding Wes’ back pain before bringing him to his new home. His hope withered away the moment he took a right at the end of the block right before the orphanage and saw a familiar boy sitting in the front steps, sweat dripping down the sides of his face even in the cool autumn breeze. His big green eyes were wide and he was shivering, and the moment he saw Mikhail coming down the sidewalk he stood up, his face contorting in pain. Mikhail couldn’t help how his feet started sprinting towards the young boy, all but dropping his briefcase next to him as he crouched to better look up at his tired and pained face. He couldn’t ask what was wrong before Wes was hugging him, shaking slightly, and burying his face in Mikhail’s shoulder. Careful to avoid his upper back, Mikhail lightly put his hands on Wes’ lower back only to hear him hiss loudly and back away, his eyes squeezed shut. 

_What’s wrong? Is it worse?_ Mikhail signed after getting his attention. Wes nodded, 

_I can’t sleep._ He signed, _It hurts a lot._

Mikhail sighed. He had no idea what to do. At this rate Wes was going to have to tell the staff members about his pain. If it got any worse than this, he wouldn’t be able to keep hiding it. And they had only just sent in the fostering papers three days ago. 

_Mr. B,_ Wesley signed to get his attention, snapping Mikhail out of his spiral into quiet despair, _why can’t I tell anybody about this? It really hurts and I just want some ice for my back._

Mikhail looked up into green eyes, shaking his head before signing, _Let’s go inside, I’ll explain. Can you walk?_

Wesley nodded, and soon they were sitting at their usual table. Mikhail had asked for an ice pack for himself, pretending to have fallen on his way to the orphanage, and as soon as the door closed he had gently placed it on Wes’ back. The boy gasped but soon thereafter sighed in relief. Mikhail sat down next to him, gently guiding Wes to lean forward so the ice pack would lean on his back while Mikhail signed with both hands.

_Wes, do you know what a mutant is? M-U-T-A-N-T?_

Wesley stared at Mikhail for a moment, as if trying to understand if he was being serious. When he realized this wasn’t a joking matter, he nodded but signed _so-so_.

_They’re people with different D-N-A, those are the building blocks of our body,_ Mikhail explained, _their bodies are different from other people. Sometimes they have abilities, like turning invisible or being very strong, and sometimes they have additional body parts, like many arms or eyes._

Realization started to dawn in Wes’ green eyes as Mikhail finished signing. Careful to not jostle the ice pack on his back, he lifted his arms and signed:

_Am I a mutant?_

Mikhail looked away for a moment, thinking of the proper way to answer, before he raised his arms to sign:

_I’m not sure, but I think so. And if you are, we need to be careful, because there are many people who don’t want mutants around. Evil people, and sometimes misguided people, but they are all very dangerous to mutants. They could hurt you._

Wes looked at his tutor with alarm, his breathing starting to speed up. Mikhail tried to reach for his hand and Wesley sat up, the ice pack slipping from his back and landing on the chair with a cold splat. 

_Will I ever get adopted?_ He signed, quickly and aggressively. Mikhail paused, unsure of what to say. _Will I?_ Wes tried again. 

_Yes, you will._ Mikhail assured. Wesley looked at him, distrust clear in his eyes. _You will,_ he repeated, _because I’m going to make sure you do. I want to F-O-S-T-E-R you, if you would let me._

Wesley froze at that, looking over at his tutor with wide eyes. 

_F-O-S-T-E-R?_ He signed, tentatively.

_I want to be your temporary family, until we can find a family that’s perfect for you. Because that’s what you deserve,_ Mikhail signed, _you’re a great kid, you’re smart and kind and you have a bright future ahead of you. I want to help you get there._

Wes was silent for a moment, staring at Mr. B like he had grown a second head, before signing.

_Is that allowed?_

Mikhail let out a small huff of laughter, of course the kid was worried about the logistics. 

_It is, but it usually takes three or four months. I applied three days ago. It will take some time. I don’t know what to do about your back until then._ He confessed, looking at Wes apologetically. Wes looked slightly defeated as he understood what his tutor was signing, wringing his hands together, sweat dripping down his temple. He looked down at the table, his brow furrowed in deep thought, before he looked back up with a determined look.

_What if I leave and stay with you now?_ He signed. Mikhail paused, looking at him with a confused expression, but before he could answer Wes continued. _What if I talk to Andrew? I could say that I’ve been feeling really bad and lonely, and that you’re the only person I can really talk to. So I could move in with you early but keep some of my stuff here. Pretend I’m gonna come back, and I can when my back gets better._

Mikhail paused, looking at Wesley with a quizzical look.

_And you think they would do that for you?_

Wesley gave him a confident smile,

_I know they get a big fund because they have a deaf kid. I can get away with a lot._

Mikhail let out a big laugh at that, his shoulders shaking and he shook his head. _This kid,_ he thought. 

_Well, if you feel that confident then I think that’s a great idea. I don’t think it will happen today, will you be okay for a few more days?_ Mikhail signed, giving Wes a concerned look.

Wes looked down at his hands, feeling the sweat and shivers that ran through his body. He set his jaw and looked up into dark eyes.

_Yeah,_ he signed, _I’ll be fine._

**…**

True to his word, Wesley talked to Andrew, and the next day, Andrew was escorting Mikhail to a separate room to ask him how comfortable he would be taking Wesley in for a few days.

“He’s been acting really weird lately, sleeping a lot, not communicating with his friends. I’m starting to think he’s maybe starting to realize being deaf is something that’s gonna affect him the rest of his life, you know?” Andrew explained. Mikhail nodded,

“I know what you mean, I’ve been noticing something similar during our lessons. He seems distracted, and he doesn’t like talking about the topics I teach anymore. It’s like he just wants to talk about his life and how he’s feeling. Also, you said he was sleeping a lot?” he asked. Andrew nodded,

“He’s been waking up late, right before your class, and he just goes there without eating breakfast. Well, you’ve seen me bringing over fruits in the morning. And he goes to sleep immediately after dinner, sometimes just grabs stuff and takes it to his room.” 

“That sounds awful, sounds like he might be depressed?” Mikhail tried. He didn’t know much about mental health, but he remembered his cousin explaining something about too much sleep being bad. 

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised. Anyway, he asked me if he could maybe stay with you for a few days. Usually, that’s not allowed at all, logistics and all that, but he’s a good kid, you know? He never gets in trouble, always gets good grades. Honestly, I think getting out of here for some time would be good for him.” Andrew said. Mikhail tried not to smile too wide as he placed a hand on Andrew’s shoulder,

“I think so too, Andrew, when could I pick him up?”

**…**

Graddy was having a terrible day. He’d forgotten his notebook at home and was forced to borrow loose leaf paper from the teacher, who proceeded to embarrass him in front of the whole class for forgetting his notebook. In history, his partner had been sick, so he was forced to give a short presentation all by himself in front of the class. During lunch, one of the older kids pulled Michaelle’s pigtails, resulting in Grady kicking their ass and getting sent to the principal’s office. After a stern yelling from his mother, whom they had called instead of his father for whatever reason, he was allowed to go back to class, where he had a pop quiz in math. Finally, his mother was late to pick him and Michaelle up at school, meaning that they were the last kids waiting next to Mrs. Flynn, the teacher on duty, who kept on giving them judging glances for making her stay late. Furthermore, Grady’s stomach kept growling because he didn’t eat during lunch, having used all his time to kick ass. 

“This sucks,” Grady yelled, earning a scalding glare from Mrs. Flynn and no reaction from Michaelle, who just looked out into the rain with quiet contemplation. He considered messing with her just to have something to do, but realized messing with Michaelle was never really any fun. She just took it and didn’t say anything, looking down at her feet even as those older jerks called her names. Michaelle wasn’t completely deaf, just hard of hearing, but even then she required extra help sometimes, meaning dad would have to come back from tutoring the deaf orphan all day only to tutor Michaelle as well. It made Grady upset, he’d barely had any time with his dad in the last year because he was so busy, but he managed to push it down. The topic got old after the first few tantrums anyway.

“Grady!” Michaelle said suddenly, distracting him from his thoughts. She shook his arm and pointed at their mother that was hurrying down the sidewalk with her dark red umbrella. Her hair was in disarray and she didn’t have her briefcase with her, instead replaced by a white plastic bag. She strode right up to the school, gave Grady an umbrella for himself, took Michaelle by her small hand and yelled a quick goodbye to Mrs. Flynn before pulling both of her children onto the sidewalk and back towards their house.

“What’s the hurry?” Grady complained, struggling to keep up with his mother’s long strides. 

“We have important business to deal with at home.” she said quickly, “Now keep up, I don’t want to turn around and find you missing.” 

“That only happened once…” Grady mumbled. 

The fifteen minute walk to home turned into a twelve minute walk, leaving both Grady and his sister out of breath. The minute their mother had opened the front door, she dropped the umbrella unceremoniously on the ground, locked the door, kicked off her shoes, and ran into the apartment. Grady and Michaelle shared a confused look before a terrifying sound made Grady jump. His eyes shot towards his mother’s studio, where the sound had come from. It had been something straight out of a zombie movie, a dreadful, high-pitched moaning. Michaelle, who hadn’t heard it, tried to get his attention to ask, but Grady had already kicked off his boots and was running towards the room, skidding to a halt at the open door’s frame.

“Was that dad? Is everything okay? Why…” Grady froze. In the middle of the room, lying in the small sofa-bed they used when his grandparents visited, was a kid. He was tall, probably as tall as an 8th grader, and had sweat-drenched strawberry blonde curls sticking to his forehead and temple. His face was buried into a pillow and his chest was expanding and contracting with shaking breaths. But the scariest part of the scene wasn’t the kid, but rather his back. Protruding from his back were two enormous white lumps. There seemed to be bones stored beneath his skin, breathing along with him and threatening to burst through. His father, who had been sitting next to the boy and running his hand through his hair looked up at his son,

“Grady! Take your sister to your room and stay there with her!” He ordered. Grady was taken aback, his father never spoke to him like that.

“Is he okay?” Grady asked,

“Grisha, listen to your father!” His mother yelled as she pulled various medical products from the bag she brought. 

“Who is he?” Grady yelled back, just as he saw Michaelle running down the corridor. Grady cursed and ran at her, meeting her halfway, and then pulling her in the direction of her room. 

“Grady! Grady!” Michaelle was yelling as he pulled her into her room and closed the door. He turned to face her and signed,

 _Stay here. I’m going to help mom and dad. Don’t leave the room, seriously!_ She looked up at him, and just as he was going to turn away she grabbed his arms and squeezed, her eyes burning angrily. 

“No!” She yelled. Grady pulled his arms free just as she began to sign, _what is happening? What is happening?_

“Mom and dad are helping someone.” Grady said, making sure to sign along with his words. “They need help, but they told me to bring you here. Okay? Will you promise me you will stay here?”

Michaelle looked upset, glaring at Grady, as if knowing that he was lying somehow. Grady sighed, 

“I promise I’ll be back soon, okay? I promise.” Grady said, holding Michaelle’s hands and leaning down to look into her eyes, “I… I pinky promise.” He then took her smaller pinky into his own and realization dawned upon her eyes. She sniffled but nodded, and with that Grady ran out of the room and back towards the studio. As his steps approached, he heard his mother’s voice,

“Grisha, if I have to tell you to go with your sister one more time,” His mother’s voice was almost enough to send him right back to Michaelle’s room, but he pushed through and entered the studio. He paled. The boy was now biting into a pillowcase, tears streaming down his eyes as his father held down his shoulders and his mother carefully inserted a syringe into his back muscles. 

“Grady!” His father yelled. Grady was about to open his mouth to defend himself, say anything, when suddenly green eyes shot open and Grady was caught in the most intense gaze he had ever seen. A shiver ran straight up his spine and just as fast as they had shot open, they squeezed shut as the boy gave another muffled groan, his mother’s syringe piercing the muscle near the protrusions. “Grady, leave now!”

“Let me help!” Grady said suddenly, making his father lose his words for a moment. “Please let me help.” 

Mikhail looked up at Faina, who looked back at him with those same intense eyes. She nodded. 

“Grady, come here and sit down.” his father indicated. Grady did as he was told and sat down directly in front of the boy’s face. “Ask him if he’s okay in ASL.” 

Grady looked up at his dad, understanding dawning upon him, before he looked down and poked the boy’s shoulder. Green eyes shot open again and Grady started signing,

_Are you okay?_ He signed. The boy was breathing heavily and his eyes were hazy, but he managed to nod slightly. 

"He’s okay,” Grady informed his parents, even though they probably saw the boy’s reaction.

“Tell him we’re going to try and release some of the pressure. Tell him it might hurt.” His dad explained. 

_We are going to open your back, to stop P-R-E-S-S-U-R-E. It might hurt._ Grady signed, his hands shaking. The boy’s expression turned desperate, but he closed his eyes and nodded. 

Mikhail gave a shaky sigh and looked at his wife, nodding. Faina sighed, took a few deep breaths, and abruptly stuck a gloved hand straight into the slit she’d opened on one of the lumps. Grady gasped and the boy screamed, his father making sure to keep his shoulders pressed down with all his strength. Grady, unsure about what to do, grabbed the boy’s arm and held it down as well. He stood up and watched in horror as his mother’s hand travelled underneath the boy’s skin, entering his thin back through the bloody slit opened near his spine. His mother’s hand didn’t even shake as she grabbed a hold of something and pulled it out with all her might. Grady fell back as an enormous bloody wing burst into existence in front of him. His father gave a cry of surprise and the boy suddenly stopped screaming. The wing spread upwards for a moment before it suddenly came crashing down, directly on top of Grady. For a moment he thought the boy started screaming again, only to realize he was the one screaming under bloody white-speckled wings. Before he could swallow any more feathers, his mother was dragging him out from underneath them and pulling him to his feet,

“Keep it together or get out!” she said as she shook his shoulders. Grady gasped and nodded, not realizing tears were gathering in his eyes until he felt one slide down his now-bloody cheek. “We have one more and then we’re done.”

“Do it while he’s knocked out!” Mikhail yelled, 

“Maybe don’t yell that in a small apartment complex,” Faina hissed as she repositioned herself. Grady felt himself growing light headed as his mother thrust her arm into the boy’s back once more, his ears ringing as the screaming began again, and his vision blurring as a second bloody wing joined the first one. Before he truly understood what was happening, he passed out. 

**…**

Grady woke up to a small throbbing on the side of his head. His vision focused and he noticed a head of dark hair curled up next to him. He was lying on Michaelle’s bed with Michaelle, her head on his shoulder and one hand on his stomach. His first thought was school. Wasn’t he supposed to be in school? What day was it? Yesterday had been…

“Holy shit.” Grady said out loud, to nobody in particular. 

Michaelle stirred next to him, and just as he was going to shake her awake to confirm the previous night’s events weren’t a dream, he caught sight of a body in his own bed and froze. Now that he could see his face, he realized the boy was certainly his own age. He was sleeping on his stomach, his face turned to the side, drool spilling down onto Grady’s pillow. He might have been outraged if he wasn’t currently staring at two large wings sprouting from his thin back. They weren’t as large as Grady originally remembered, although getting crushed by one probably didn’t help that sentiment. They were about five feet long each, covered in snow-white speckled feathers, and just as he was about to shake Michaelle awake, his mother entered the room. 

“Wow,” Grady said, “You look like shit.” 

His mother pursed her lips and gave him an unimpressed look,

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” she warned, “And you look like shit too, fell on your side after seeing a little bit of blood, just like your father.” 

Grady laughed at that. He liked it when his mom cursed, it was satisfying to hear her break her own no-cursing rule, even if she scolded him when he did it. His mother walked forward and placed a tentative hand on the boy’s face and then his neck, probably checking for his temperature. She was careful in stepping around the wings and slowly sat down at the end of Michaelle’s bed. 

“You probably figured this out, but this is Wesley, your father’s student.” His mother stated. 

“He’s a mutant?” Grady asked. His mother gave him an unimpressed look and Grady rolled his eyes, “Okay, dumb question, but why is he here?” 

His mother sighed and looked over at Wesley, her eyes soft.

“You know some people don’t like mutants, baby. If Wesley had loving parents, maybe they could keep him safe from people who want to hurt him, but he’s all alone in the orphanage, and he’s deaf.” his mother explained, “Your father and I spoke about it, and we want to foster him until we can find him a good family.” 

Grady had never seen his mother so somber, her eyes were haunted and tired, yet full of tenderness as she looked at Wesley.

“So he’s going to stay with us for a while?” Grady asked. His mother nodded, her eyes far away. 

"Yes, he’s going to stay with us.” She stated. Grady was quiet for a moment, looking at his mother.

“Mama,” he said. She looked back at him, her eyes returning from wherever they had been lost.

“Yes, Grisha?” she asked, her voice soft. He always complained when she called him by his Russian name, but deep down he loved hearing her say it. It made him feel special, like he had a second identity nobody else knew of. 

“You said there’s bad people who want to hurt mutants.” he asked. His mother’s gaze hardened slightly, but her voice was still tender as she reached out and held his hand. He squeezed it back. 

“Yes, there are many people out there that want to hurt humans.” she answered. Grady looked over at Wes’ sleeping figure, and then back at his mom.

“Did we leave New Jersey because bad people thought we were mutants?” he whispered. 

Faina sighed, her hand squeezing Grady’s once more her eyes squeezing shut. When she opened them, there were tears gathering in the corners.

“Yes, baby, we left New Jersey because bad people thought we were mutants.” Grady knew he should stop, but he had made it this far and his parents had never really told him why they’d left, so he took a deep breath and looked into his mother’s eyes.

“Mom… are we mutants?” 

Grady had never seen his mother cry, but a single tear slipped out from beneath his mother’s lashes, tracing a gleaming line down her sharp, angular cheek. She sniffed and wiped it away with her free hand before clearing her throat and collecting herself. She then held Grady’s hand with both of hers, her soft thumb rubbing circles into his palm. 

“We are, your father and I. We don’t know about you and Michaelle yet, but we’re hoping it never shows.” she whispered. Grady felt his heart rate pick up, and his mother leaned down to kiss his hand tenderly. “Your father, he can influence how people feel, he can make people feel calm around him. I used to get nervous around him, but whenever he uses his influence, his hands start glowing, so I knew he wasn’t influencing me when we started dating. As for me, I… I can make things happen with my words. My mother used to call it magic. She could do it and so could my grandmother. If we speak our wish out loud, we can influence it into reality.” 

“Like moving things with your mind?” Grady asked, his eyes filled with awe. His mother laughed softly,

“Something like that, but you have to say it out loud.” Her smile faded and a serious expression settled upon her face, “You need to keep this a secret Grady, do you understand? Everything, from Wesley to our heritage, to the fact that he is staying with us, everything. Can you promise me that? Promise me you won’t tell a soul?” 

“I promise mom,” Grady swore, nodding vigorously, “I won’t tell anybody, I swear!” 

“I believe you, baby. We’ll talk to Michaelle when she wakes up, but we won’t tell her about our heritage. She’s too young to know.” His mother explained, and Grady nodded to show he understood. Faina sighed, and smiled at Grady once more. “One last thing. Promise me you’ll tell me if you ever notice anything different about yourself, alright? Promise me you’ll come straight to me if you feel like something has changed.” 

Grady felt Michaelle stir next to him and quickly answered,

“I promise mom, I’ll tell you.” he promised just as Michaelle’s big dark eyes slowly cracked open and his mother smiled down at her. 

_Good morning sleepy head, how did you rest?_ His mother signed. Michaelle groaned and stretched her arms out for her mother to lift her up into her lap and cover her in kisses. Grady stared at them for a minute before letting his gaze travel to Wesley. He was still sleeping soundly, and at this point he was sure he was going to have to get a new pillow with how much drool was soaked into it. 

Grady was suddenly hit by another question.

“Mom?” He asked, annoyance tinting his words, “Where is he gonna sleep?”

**…**

Wesley surfaced into consciousness slowly and steadily, his eyes fluttering open and his mouth clamping shut, the feeling of dry drool crusted along his cheek. He gave a loud inhale and, upon realizing he was on a very comfortable bed, stretched his arms and legs out as far as they could go before curling back on himself. 

And then the memories hit him like a freight train. 

He bolted up on all fours and shook his head, bewildered for a second as snippets from the previous night filtered into his brain, before he caught sight of a large white object in the corner of his left eye. He jolted back, only for his arm to crash into the wall the bed was against and burst into pain. Wait, no, that wasn’t his arm, his arm was beneath him, what was…

Wesley’s arms gave out as his eyes finally focused on the large wing springing from his back. He began hyperventilating, his face half-buried in the bed as he tried to scramble away from the strange appendage. He must have been causing a racket because suddenly, Mr. B’s face appeared from above his left wing, ducking underneath his appendage to sign an urgent,

_Calm down! You’re okay!_ Before placing both hands on Wesley’s shoulders. Wes watched as Mr. B inhaled and exhaled, exaggerating every movement with his chest and mouth, and before he knew it he was imitating him, breathing in and out. In and out, ever so slowly, until his heart rate seemed to slow. Eventually, Mr. B led Wes into a sitting position, and Wesley was able to truly see his wings. 

_They’re very beautiful, aren’t they?_ Mr. B signed. Wes felt his heartbeat pick up again, but he managed to keep calm. 

They were white and fluffy, speckled with black and grey, and curved towards his body. Tentatively, he reached out a hand, feeling lightheaded when he realized he could control his wings and bring them towards his hand in turn. He shivered at the feeling, his fingers running through the soft feathers. Wes suddenly felt sick.

_How am I going to hide them?_ Wes signed, his hands shaking. _They’re huge, how am I going to go back to the orphanage?_

_Listen to me,_ Mr. B began, but Wesley cut him off,

_What is happening to me?_ He signed violently, only to get cut off by a huge pillow to the face. Wesley gaped as the giant lumpy thing fell at his knees and looked up into angry dark eyes.

_Keep it together A-S-S-H-O-L-E, everybody in the apartment complex can hear you._ The boy, who Wesley immediately recognized as Mr. B’s son, had a deep grimace stretched across his face and furrowed brows. He looked like he was ready to punch somebody in the face. _They told the neighbors it was me yelling last night, throwing a tantrum, and they believed it. Don’t make me look bad again or I’m kicking you off my bed D-I-P-S-H…_

Mr. B whacked his son’s hands down before he could finish signing, giving him a disapproving glare, which his son returned tenfold. The boy looked back at Wesley.

_Behave._ He signed with finality, before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room. Wesley, now in shock at being scolded by someone his age, looked at Mr. B, whose face held an expression that was both exasperated yet resigned, and somewhat fond. 

_That’s my kid, G-R-A-D-Y,_ he signed, _he… he can be intense._

**…**

Mr. B, or Misha as he had insisted Wesley refer to him as, made sure every window to the apartment was closed shut with the shades pulled down before bringing Wesley out of the room. The smell of food hit him like a bag of rocks, and Misha laughed at the way his eyes widened and he sniffed the air. He followed him into an open area containing a kitchen on one side and a quaint living room on the other, separated by a small kitchen table with five seats. Wesley noted that four of them matched the table set while one of them was a foldable wooden chair. However, what truly caught his attention were the three people sitting on a small, worn red couch, staring at him expectantly. 

Faina was the first to stand up, walking over to Wes with a small smile on her face. Her eyes and brows were exactly like Mr. B’s son, although they held more kindness than his. 

_Hello W-E-S, good to meet you now that you’re feeling better._ She signed. Wesley smiled and put his hand out to greet her, which she took and shook with firmness. He was about to sign how it was nice to meet her but suddenly there was a mass of black hair under his nose and two large and kind eyes, just like Mr. B’s. 

_Hi, my name is M-I-C-H-A-E-E… M-I-C-H-A-E-L-L-L-E. It’s so nice to meet you! My dad always talks about you. He says you are very nice and smart, and that you’re deaf. I’m not deaf, but I need hear… H-E-A-R-I-N-G-A-I-D-S to hear. So I can still hear, but sometimes I wish I didn’t, because my brother is annoying and talks too much. Will you stay with us? How old are you? Do you want to watch…_ Faina very carefully took both of Michaelle’s hands into her own and said something to her that Wesley couldn’t catch, after which Michaelle’s expression turned apologetic and she signed again,

_Nice to meet you W-E-S._ Once done, she put her hands down and peeked at Wes through her lashes. 

_Nice to meet you M-I-C-H-A-E-L-L-E. I will be staying with you for some time, and I am eleven years old. What did you want to watch?_ He asked. Michaelle’s smile widened so quickly Wesley felt himself smile in return, watching her jump up and down, trying to sign something about a fox and a dog of some sort, when suddenly she was pushed aside and Wes was met by a now familiar glare.

_My name is G-R-A-D-Y,_ Mr. B’s son signed, ignoring Michaelle’s complaints and his father’s disapproving look. _We’re going to be sharing a room from now on. My sister is going to sleep in my parent’s room until we get her a new bed. If you snore even once I’m kicking you out. Also, stay out of my stuff._ He finished signing, his glare so intense Wesley felt like he was shrinking under it, even if he was at least four inches taller than him.

_Okay. If I snore you kick me out. I won’t touch your stuff. Thanks for letting me stay here._ Wesley answered with confidence. Grady narrowed his eyes at the taller boy, as if assessing him, before nodding. 

_Sounds good._ He signed, and then, after a pause. _How are you feeling?_

Wesley was slightly taken aback by the question. All of the previous interactions had indicated Grady wasn’t his biggest fan, but he wasn’t about to turn his kindness away. 

_I’m feeling better, thank you._ He signed back. Grady nodded,

_Good._ He signed back. A soft tap on his shoulder shifted his attention back to Misha, who signed a quick,

_Are you hungry?_ Wesley was about to answer when he felt his stomach ripple, making him wince. He was surprised when Misha and Michaelle started laughing, Faina and Grady smiling at him.

_What happened?_ He asked, and Misha smiled.

_Your stomach made a noise._ He explained. Wesley nodded in understanding and was guided to the small table as Faina and Grady started bringing the food from the kitchen. He was surprised when Misha pulled out one of the wooden chairs from the dinning set. He stole a glance of the foldable chair that mismatched the rest, but before he could sign anything Grady was crashing into the foldable chair and glaring at him,

  
 _Get your own chair, this one is mine._ He signed before reaching over to serve himself some mashed potatoes, only to get his wrist snatched by his mother and redirected to the steamed vegetables. Wesley sat down and smiled as he watched Faina guide Grady’s hand, forcing him to serve himself vegetables as he mumbled angrily. On the other side of the table, Misha was serving Michaelle some chicken while she spoke to him, her mouth moving a mile per minute. As he watched the Berzinski family serve their food, give a small prayer, and begin to eat, Wesley began to feel his heart settle and his mind become peaceful. He was going to be okay, he thought, everything was going to be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so began Wesley's life with the Berzinskis.

Wesley wasn’t allowed to leave the house. It made sense, and after calling the orphanage, Misha managed to get him to stay with the family as long as he sent in letters to Andrew telling him how he was doing. He also promised to visit in a few weeks, which led to a long brainstorming session to discuss how they could best hide Wesley’s wings. After sitting in a circle and throwing ideas out for about an hour after dinner, Grady slammed his hand on the table, startling everyone, and said,

“I know what to do.” Before dashing out of the living room and returning with an old backpack. “We cut two holes here,” he indicated the side of the bag that would be pressed against Wesley’s back, “And he just doesn’t take it off. It’s perfect.” 

After fifteen minutes of amateur arts and crafts where Faina and Grady argued about the best way to cut the holes while Misha calmly cut the holes, they pushed Wes’ wings through and he folded them closely to his body. The four Berzinskis stood back and admired their handiwork as Wes gave them a slow 180 turn, jumped, jogged in place, and struck a pose. It got him a good laugh from everyone and they agreed with Grady, it worked perfectly. 

**…**

Wesley’s clothes had to be cut open and sewed in order to make space for his wings. At first he felt bad cutting his only clothes up, it wasn’t like he had that many, but after a quick shopping trip, Faina, Grady and Michaelle returned home with a whole bag of shirts from the secondhand store. Faina insisted that they could just sew them back together when Grady grew taller (which he complained about) and that it was no trouble at all. However, Faina didn’t have time to sew every single shirt, and she kept pricking her fingers when she did, so Grady and Wesley ended up learning a new skill. The boys spent a whole Sunday evening cutting open and sewing wing-holes for every one of Wesley’s shirts. They got pretty good at it and made sure to leave the best shirts for last so that they could do them best, but halfway through they realized how boring doing the same task for four hours could be. 

They were sitting on a giant pile of shirts with their backs against their respective beds, facing each other, when Grady started asking Wesley about himself. He asked what he did for fun (‘ _I usually play tetherball or I’m the goalie when I play soccer with the other kids.’ ‘Of course you do, you stupid bean-stalk.’),_ what his favorite food was ( _‘Probably the potato pancakes your mom makes.’ ‘You’re a man of good taste.’),_ and what his favorite band was. This was met with tense silence, after which Wesley scrunched his nose and tried to convey the phrase _really?_ with his face. Grady facepalmed, dragging his hand down his face,

_I’m an idiot._ Wesley’s shoulders shook, letting out small, wheezing huffs.

_It’s okay. I can feel vibrations when I put my hand on the radio speaker but I don’t know what I’m listening to._ He signed, _So I might have a favorite band, I just don’t know it yet._

Grady jumped up, his eyes wide with excitement. 

_Dude, you should have said that before!_ Before Wesley could ask what he meant, Grady was diving under his old bed, now Wesley’s bed, and pulling out an old shoe box slightly speckled with silver dust. Wes watched with curiosity as he pulled the top off and revealed a collection of about a dozen cassette tapes next to a small grey radio with a single speaker and a cassette player. Grady looked up at Wes, a mischievous smile on his face. 

_You’re looking at my personal treasure S-T-A-S-H. All the best recordings from the last few years. These tracks…_ He reached down and pulled out two cassettes and turned to sign with a single hand: _B-I-T-C-H-I-N-G._

_You know how to sign most of these curse words, why do you spell them?_ Wesley asked with a smile, enjoying the way Grady’s eyes were lighting up as he looked through the cassettes, his mind obviously set on a specific one. 

_Mom and dad know they can’t stop me from cursing, but mom said I have to work for it, so I have to spell them out._ He explained briefly, his eyes trailing the various names on the back of each cassette’s plastic case. Wesley read a few names, _Blondie, The Ramones, Minor Threat,_ when suddenly Grady’s eyes caught sight of a specific beige cassette and he snatched it, holding it up against the light filtering in through the window. _The Smiths,_ the cassette read.

_How do you own these? Aren’t they expensive?_ Wesley asked.

_I got them from our neighbor,_ Grady confessed, s _he moved out last month and forgot these. I wrote her a letter asking if I could keep them and she said yes._

Grady looked away from Wes as he slipped the cassette into the device and pressed play. He immediately started snapping his fingers and bobbing his head, slowly getting to his feet and turning to face Wes with a smile so genuine it filled his own stomach with excitement. He reached out and took Wes’ hand, placing the radio in it with the speaker facing his palm. He could feel the vibrations. 

_How does it feel?_ Grady asked, his eyes expectant. Wes concentrated on the buzzing in his hand, but he was struggling to find a pattern he could follow. As if reading his mind, Grady started patting the back of his hand with his own, marking out the beats as the buzzing started to make sense. He nodded, smiling as he felt the rhythm pulsing out of the speaker, and started nodding his head along with Grady.

_You got it!_ Grady signed. 

_It feels great._ Wes signed, using half the sign for ‘great’ since his other hand was busy, but Grady understood and let out a laugh. 

_If it feels great you have to dance to it,_ he instructed. Grady took a step back before he started… bouncing? He would bend his knees and lean down slightly before bouncing back with every beat, side to side, his arms bent at 90 degree angles and his elbows leaning out to match his body’s movements. He abruptly stopped and started shaking his shoulders to the beat, whipping his hair side to said, closing his eyes as he enjoyed himself. Wesley didn’t know what to do, but just watching Grady was fun, until those dark eyes flashed open, this time followed by a smile, and Grady signed,

_Try it! Just move to the beat!_ And offered him his hand. After taking his warm hand, Wesley tried his best to move to the beat. His movements were stiff and he wasn’t sure what to do with his arms, but he tried imitating Grady’s bouncing. Grady gave him an approving look and a nod, which was all Wesley needed to start bouncing harder, and suddenly, they were both jumping around to the beat and banging their heads. Grady started shaking his shoulders again and Wesley followed, watching with a smile as Grady started singing along what he assumed were the lyrics to the song. He’d ask Grady to tell him what it said later, but for now, he was jamming to two steady beats: _The Smiths_ in one hand, and Grady’s heartbeat in the other.

**…**

After a few days of adjusting, Wesley fit into the family’s routine perfectly. At 6:30 AM, Misha would knock on the bedroom door, peeking in and making sure Grady was up before heading over to Michaelle’s room. Grady would get up, walk over, and shake Wesley awake gently, after which he would walk back and throw himself onto his bed, falling asleep instantly. Wesley would get up, draw the shades, pull Grady out of bed, and Grady would mumble as he went to use the bathroom first. After they had both showered, brushed, and gotten dressed, they would walk to the kitchen where Misha was making breakfasts as he listened to jazz, usually Russian crepes. 

Afterwards, Misha would wash the dishes and Wesley would dry them before putting them away while the family brushed their teeth. Wesley would then say goodbye to the family, Misha promising to be right back after dropping off the kids, and after closing and locking the door, Wesley would go to the window at the end of the hall that faced the main road and would watch the Berzinskis part ways, Faina taking a right and the remaining three taking a left. Only then would he go brush his teeth.

Afterwards, Wes would return and open the window, carry one of the dining chairs over, and while being careful to hide his wings, he would fold his arms on the windowsill and let the warm Austin breeze ruffle his hair and, occasionally, his wings. Sometimes he would let his head rest on his arms while he daydreamed, thinking of what he would do with Grady when he got back from school, or which movie Michaelle would want to watch in the evening. Sometimes he would think of Andrew and wonder how he was doing, and the other kids he used to live with. He would always hope they were getting adopted soon, and would imagine them all going to nice families with big houses. 

Eventually, Wes would see Misha walking down the street, returning to the apartment. He would then close the window, return the seat to its place, and take out his tutoring books. Five minutes later, Misha would slip a blue square of paper under the door and Wesley would unlock it. After tutoring most of the day, and making lunch together (Misha would teach him his recipes), Misha would leave to either pick up Grady and Michaelle, or to run errands, after which Grady and Michaelle would be dropped off by a family friend or picked up by Faina. 

Just like before, Wes would sit at the window, looking down at the street, waiting for two spots of black hair to turn the corner and head towards the apartment, either with their father, their mother, or someone unfamiliar to him. Which is why today, a whole two months after he had moved in with the Berzinskis, he was surprised to see the two dots heading down the street alone. He squinted, realizing that they weren’t walking, but running down the long block. Just as he considered something might be wrong, three kids, all about his own size, made a sharp turn from the same corner, and after spotting Grady and Michaelle, yelled something and began running after them. Grady was practically dragging Michaelle at this point, something akin to panic in his eyes, and Wesley knew then that his friends were in trouble. 

He had his backpack on, apartment keys in his hand, and was out the door in record time.

**…**

“Get your ass back here you shitty hymie! Fucking coward!” Grady could still hear the 8th graders behind him, slowly catching up to them as he dragged Michaelle towards their apartment complex. He had no idea how he was going to dig his keys out of his pocket and open the gate when he arrived, there was no way he was going to have time to get himself and Michaelle in before they got caught. He hoped someone would be exiting the apartment as they were arriving, giving him a chance to slip them in and close the door, but his hope started to run thin as they approached the concrete stairs. He had to make a decision, and he had to do it fast. 

In retrospect, it was an easy decision, but in the moment, he felt his stomach drop as he dug into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out the keys to the apartment. 

“Get in! I’ll hold them off!” Grady yelled for good measure, shoving the keys into Michaelle’s smaller hands and pushing her forward. He took a big breath, his hands shaking as he turned around, the three kids almost upon him, and ran straight into the guy in the middle, fist first. He heard Michaelle yell his name as he started punching whatever he could reach. He didn’t think he’d managed to do much damage before he was pried off the larger kid and slammed against the building's wall, making his head spin. 

“Look what you did asshole!” One of the kids holding him against the wall (was his name Kevin? He’d seen him in the hallways a few times) yelled in his face, “You broke Rob’s nose!” 

“Motherfucker!” Rob wheezed, his voice nasally and wet. He looked up, blood pouring from both nostrils and eyes brimming with rage. 

“Fuck…” Grady whispered, grappling against the strong arms on his shoulders and arms. He stole a quick glance to his right and noticed Michaelle wasn’t there. Good, he thought, that meant she had made it inside, and maybe then she could get dad if he was home… But his relief was short lived as a fist collided with his stomach, the pain blooming within his ribs and his gag reflex flickering to life before settling as he tried to curl into himself. 

“Fuck you, you dirty Jew. My dad told me about your type, how they’re ruining us from the inside. You saw what they did to that Jew up in Colorado. Berg. Shot him down, ‘s what I heard. Made an example out of him. Showed the other Jews that they can’t take what ain’t theirs.” Rob hissed, his blood spraying on the hot concrete at Grady’s feet. Grady felt himself shake lightly, the adrenaline subsiding, now being replaced by cold fear. But he wasn’t about to let this bastard get away with talking to him like that, talking about his people like that. He looked up, mustering the best glare he could manage, which was probably still pretty good, if Rob’s startled look was any indication. He bared his teeth and with all his strength whipped his right leg out and caught Rob in the rib, causing him to stagger back with a grunt, before spitting in his direction. 

“You piece of shit,” Kevin growled, pulling Grady off the wall and slamming him back into it. Grady winced, but refused to make a noise.

“I’m gonna make an example out of _you_! You dirty hymie! Send you back to Hymietown where you came from!” Rob was yelling now, getting the attention of a handful of people that happened to walk onto the block at that precise moment, all of them unsure on how to proceed. Cowards, Grady thought bitterly, they’re all fucking cowards. He was about to get beat up and nobody was going to say anything.

He really hated Texas.

Grady braced himself, eyes fixed on Rob as he stood up at full height, face painted in dark red, trailing down his chin gruesomely and glimmering in the hot Austin sun. 

“I’ll fucking kill you,” he growled, and Grady’s stomach dropped. “I’ll fucki-”

A blur of red collided straight into Rob, a large fist decking him straight across the face. Grady watched in slow motion as it made contact with his temple, launching the tall brunette down the sidewalk, where he crashed into the pale pavement gracelessly. 

“What the fuck!” Kevin yelled, but just as he let go of Grady’s arm, two strong arms were snatching him around his collar and throwing him in the same direction as Rob, falling and rolling onto his side with a loud thud. The third kid, who at this point had let go of Grady as well, was too distracted by the comotion to notice Grady pulling back a punch and catching him across his left cheekbone, causing him to stagger to the side, holding his face in his hands. 

The third kid took one look at Grady and booked it towards his friends, sprawled out on the concrete, looking up at the imposing figure that cast a shadow upon them. There, in all of his five foot four glory, was Wesley. 

“What the fuck man, why are you defending him?” Kevin demanded. But Wesley didn’t budge, his green eyes glaring holes into the boys and his fists clenched. Grady walked over, his stomach complaining with every step, and stood next to his friend. Even while being a whole six inches shorter than Wes, the kids still shrunk when he gave them his best glare. 

“Fuck with me or Michaelle again, and my friend and I will make sure you can’t go to school for a whole damn week, dipshits.” Grady growled, a sneer painted across his face. Kevin opened his mouth to respond, but the third kid caught his attention, pointing at Rob who was clearly too dazed to walk after Wes’ strike. They didn’t say anything as they each took one of Rob’s arms onto their shoulders 

“I’d get that head checked out, Rob.” Grady called as the boys made their way back down the block, “Looks like it smarts!” 

As soon as the kids turned the corner, Grady reached over and snatched Wes’ arm, pulling him into the building with urgency. He didn’t stop pulling until they made it to the apartment, where Michaelle was waiting for them inside, big fat tears streaming down her face as she hugged Grady. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay, Wesley saved me.” he cooed, holding her close and rubbing her back.

“I thought they were gonna kill you! They said they were gonna kill you!” She yelled between sobs, her face red and blotchy. It took a lot of comforting to get Michaelle to let go, and as soon as she did she was hugging Wes, who held her tenderly as Grady went to get her a glass of water. After encouraging her to wash her face in the bathroom and drink some water, Michaelle calmed down and promised she was okay. She then sat down on the couch to watch TV and within minutes was passed out, the emotional exhaustion catching up on her small body. Grady led her head onto one of the pillows on the couch and brought a small blanket to cover her up.

He walked back to his bedroom, where Wes was sitting on his bed, his backpack next to him and his wings curled against his back. Images replayed in Grady’s mind. Wes standing up before the 8th graders, the way he punched Rob, the fire in his eyes as he stared them down, he could still see it and feel the relief that flooded him as he realized his friend was there. He slowly approached him.

Wes noticed Grady when his old black sneakers came into his line of sight, and he stood up, prepared to ask him who those kids had been, why they had chased Grady and Michaelle home. He didn’t get a chance to sign anything before he suddenly felt two thin arms wrapping around his torso and a head of dark hair burying itself in his chest. 

Wesley froze. Should he hug back? He briefly wondered. Grady had proven that he wasn’t someone that enjoyed physical contact, but as soon as he saw Grady’s shoulders begin to shake, he was enveloping the shorter boy into his arms. 

They stood there, Grady crying silently into Wes’ red shirt, hands fisted into the material as Wesley rubbed his back and laid his cheekbone across the dark crown of Grady’s head. Wes couldn’t control himself as his wings unfolded from his back, reaching forward and enveloping them in a soft cocoon. Wesley would often wonder what it would be like to hear, to perceive the sounds that objects and people would make, but he knew in that moment that he would never want to hear this. He would never want to hear Grady cry. 

A few minutes passed by and soon Wes felt Grady’s breathing slow down. It took a few more minutes until he was able to step back and rub at his face with his long dark-blue sleeves. He looked up at Wes briefly, his eyes glancing over at the wings surrounding them like a curtain of clouds. He reached out and softly traced the feathers, the sensation making Wesley shiver and pull his wings back instinctively. 

_Sorry,_ Grady signed, rubbing his fist in a circle over his chest. Wes shook his head,

_It’s okay. I don’t mind._ He signed. They were silent for a few seconds before Wesley began to sign. _Who were those kids?_ He asked. _They’re way older than us._

_They’re some a-s-s-h-o… idiots from 9th grade._ Grady signed, too tired to spell out the cuss. 

_What did they want?_ Wes asked, concern clear in his eyes. Grady shook his head, remembering the insults, the threats, the disgust. He almost felt more tears bubble up again but he managed to keep them at bay. 

_They just don’t like people like me._ Wesley paused, confused.

_Like you?_

_J-E-W-I-S-H._ He signed, his eyes dropping to the floor as he sniffled. Wesley stiffened at that, looking at Grady with concern, which was then replaced with resolve. He tapped Grady’s shoulder, getting his attention.

_If they ever mess with you or your sister again, I’ll F-U-C-K them up._ Wes signed. _I’ll punch them and throw them back up the street, like today. And next time I’ll chase them all the way to their houses and beat them up again._

Grady smiled when Wes spelled out the curse word, even laughing a bit when Wesley finished explaining himself. However, as soon as he started laughing, he winced, clutching as his stomach. Wesley was at his side instantly, guiding him to the bed and sitting him down.

_That A-S-S-H-O-L-E punched me,_ Grady signed, taking a few deep breaths. Wesley rubbed his back in slow motions, letting him regain his composure before tapping his shoulder again. 

_We should tell your parents._ He signed. Grady’s eyes widened,

_H-E-L-L no! They’ll flip! They’ll say it was my fault!_ Grady signed urgently,

_No! I’ll tell them. I always watch from the window. Your dad knows I would never lie about something like this._ Wesley explained. Grady was lifting his hands to sign again but Wesley caught them, shaking his head. _You’re hurt. We need to make sure you’re okay._

Grady looked up at Wes, expression morphing from annoyance to concern, before nodding.

_Okay._ He signed. 

_Thank you,_ Wes signed, _now tell me everything that happened, from the beginning._

Telling his parents was the worst. Misha and Faina arrived at the apartment in a frenzy, calling Grady and Michaelle’s names. Misha sagged in relief when they caught sight of the three of them sitting on the living room couch, Michaelle asleep against Grady’s side. Faina, however, stood still and tall, her eyes filled with rage and latching onto Grady as soon as she entered the living room. She opened her mouth, already taking a step forward, when Wesley quickly stood up, effectively stepping between her and her children.

_Stop!_ He signed, _please, let me explain._ Faina schooled her expression, eyes flickering towards her son, before sighing and motioning for Wesley to proceed.

Wesley explained what had happened briefly and efficiently. He was at the window and watched the three bullies chase Grady and Michaelle. He ran downstairs, with his backpack on, and brought Michaelle up to the apartment before returning to help Grady. After they returned to the apartment, Grady then explained that the three boys had tried ganging up on him and Michaelle during their free periods, but the teachers had interfered. However, after school, the teacher on duty had gone to the bathroom, leaving Grady and Michaelle alone, waiting for their mother to pick them up. The three kids had walked out of the building, their intent clear. Grady had grabbed Michaelle and made a run for it, and that was that. 

Misha and Faina’s demeanour had completely changed by the time Wes finished explaining, both parents launching themselves upon Grady and Michaelle, who had slowly woken up, and demanding explanations. Why had the boys attacked them? What were their names? Were either of them hurt?

Grady had to begrudgingly admit that yes, one of the boys had managed to get a punch in and slam his head into the wall before Wes arrived. After that revelation, Faina had her son in bed with one ice pack on his stomach and another on his head in record time before she was making a few important phone calls. Misha had taken his time to talk to both of his children, making sure to tell them he would always be there to support them, before turning to Wes and embracing him. 

Wes was used to hugging Mr. B, had been for a long time, but this hug felt different. When they separated, Misha looked down at him with tears in his eyes.

_Thank you, I don't know what would have happened if you had not intervened. Thank you._

_Of course. They’re my best friends._ He signed, unaware of Grady’s eyes on him, staring at the sign for _friends_ with wide eyes. 

That night, Grady asked his parents if he could move Wesley’s bed so it was next to his. His mother gave him a suspicious glance, but ultimately gave in, helping Wesley slide the bed over until there was no space between the two. Wesley didn’t ask about it until they were about to turn off the lights to go to bed. 

_Turn off the lights and you’ll see._ Grady said, a mischievous look on his face. Wesley narrowed his eyes at him, suspecting a prank, but turned the lights off regardless and got into bed. He was blinded by a sudden light coming from beneath Grady’s pillow, recognizing a flashlight as his eyes adjusted.

_Now we can sign after bedtime._ Grady explained, the light illuminating his smile in an almost sinister way. Wesley smiled as well, 

_Good idea._ He signed back. 

They fell asleep two hours later, Grady nodding off as Wesley explained the intricate reasoning behind why Indiana Jones could never defeat Han Solo. Wesley stopped signing when he realized his friend’s eyelids weren’t fluttering open anymore, his chest moving up and down slowly, his fingers still curved around the flashlight. He turned it off, slowly taking it from relaxed fingers and tucking it in between their mattresses. He fell asleep to the sight of Grady’s peaceful face illuminated by moonlight, and a warm feeling settling in his heart. 

**…**

When he had first arrived at the Berzinski household, Wesley had been unsure whether Grady liked him at all. After the first week, he had realized that Grady probably thought he was okay. After the dancing session, he was pretty sure he and Grady were at least friends. But after the bullying incident, Wes was well aware that he was probably Grady’s favorite person. 

Before the incident, his time had been divided between Michaelle and Grady. Now, his time was almost fully monopolized by Grady. Grady would pull Wesley along to do everything with him: watch TV, listen to music (or in Wesley’s case, hold it in his hand), eat snacks, put together a puzzle, sit at the window and watch the people walk by, and even do homework. Sometimes, on lazy Saturday evenings, they would sit on the couch and read. Before, Wesley would read on his own while Grady listened to music or read comic books in his room. Grady had no interest in those ‘big boring books’, and had ‘better things to do’. But recently, Grady would storm into the room and demand Wesley make space for him, cramming next to him on the couch and reading whatever it was Wesley was currently holding. 

Before long, they’d made it through _Lord of the Flies_ and _Animal Farm_ together. Wesley considered pointing out that Grady had ‘better things to do’ than read ‘big boring books’, but one look at Grady’s enraptured expression as he read through paragraphs of text was enough to keep him silent. 

At first, he considered that maybe he would become tired of Grady’s constant company, but as time went by, the opposite became true. Grady and Wes became inseparable. They would tell each other about their days and life, things they would never tell the adults or Michaelle, their fears and their opinions. On Grady’s birthday, instead of having friends over from school, Grady opted to go with his family and Wes to the movies and then an arcade. For Wesley’s birthday, Wesley politely asked if they could go spend the day at a state park, having read about them in one of the many magazines in the house. After ensuring his backpack wouldn’t fall, even if he was in the water, both parents drove the kids in a rented car to the Barton Creek Wilderness Park on the least busy day of the week. They were lucky enough to spend the whole day alone, not a single other person showing up. Wesley and Grady played in the water and sun the whole day and passed out on the way home. It became one of Wesley’s favorite memories. The only thing that could top a day like that was the news Misha gave him when they arrived back at the apartment: the paperwork had gone through, the Berzinskis had officially become Wesley’s foster family. 

Wesley cried that whole evening. He held onto both Misha and Faina, his tears drenching their shirts as he thanked them profusely. That night, Wesley went to bed smiling, Grady right next to him, snoring loudly after a long day of swimming and running around.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years later... a lot has changed.

_Five Years Later_

Wesley exited the building on a warm, humid late afternoon with a grocery list in his jean’s back pocket. It was Wednesday, meaning it was grocery day. Wes first offered to get groceries when he realized both Berzinski parents were too busy to go shopping on Wednesday, the day with the best deals. They were hesitant at first, but Misha supported Wesley, stating that he was already an independent teenager that was more than capable of helping around in the house. Even though he usually went with Grady or Michaelle, both siblings were occupied today, and he didn’t mind doing it alone. In fact, he was hoping for it. 

Wesley walked down the street, his wings tightly fastened against his back thanks to the harness Misha had custom-made for him for his 14th birthday. They had to get it adjusted every time it got too tight, both his height and wingspan consistently growing, but it kept his wings tight against his back and made it seem like he simply had slightly bad posture. The gift had been a blessing, allowing Wesley to leave the house and interact with the world without the fear of exposure.

He walked to the usual grocery store, a quaint Russian market with good produce and select kosher items located 20 minutes from the apartment. He went in, quickly collected the items he needed, and checked out at the same cashier he always paid at. Cashier #7 was an older lady who wouldn’t try to talk to Wesley like the other cashiers, she would simply ring him up, tap the screen indicating how much he owed her, and take his payment. He appreciated her lack of southern hospitality, it made the whole experience a lot easier when people weren’t trying to ask you how your day was going. Especially when you were deaf.

He gathered his bags and stepped back out into the hot Austin sun, took a single look around, and walked in the opposite direction he'd come from. After another few minutes, he stopped in front of a red brick building, and after checking to make sure nobody he knew was around, he walked up the front steps and unlocked the front door with a small key from his pocket. He could feel his heartbeat quicken as he walked down the hall and took the stairs, two steps at a time, to the third floor, where he found himself in a long, burgundy hallway illuminated by yellowing lights. His feet already knew the route by memory as he took a left and counted three doors before stopping in front of a worn wooden door with a brown welcome mat. He took a deep breath, his body buzzing with excitement, checked to make sure nobody else was in the hallway, and knocked. 

He had barely finished knocking before the door swung open and a strong hand pulled him inside by his shirt. The air was knocked out of him as he was pushed up against the closed door and lips were upon his. He dropped the groceries, his hands reaching up to tangle in dark hair as he kissed back just as fervently, enjoying the feeling of a solid body against his own and wide hands running up and down his sides, fingertips tracing his folded wings and making him shiver. He felt soft lips slow down and give him a last, slow press before pulling back, leaving him breathless. He was met by soft dark almond eyes and a bright smile. 

“Hey handsome,” he read the same lips he’d been kissing as they curled around the words gently. 

Wesley simply smiled as a response, a hand coming up to trace the dark sun-kissed skin of soft cheeks. 

_I missed you,_ Wesley always signed the same thing when they got a moment alone, staring into each other’s eyes. The bright smile widened, recognizing the signs, before an amateur, inexperienced right hand came up, closing his fingers in except for his pinky and thumb, and signed,

_Me too._ Wesley felt his face warm up at the sign, his smile turning bashful. He was surprised when the hands continued signing, albeit slowly. _I like kissing you, W-E-S._

Wesley’s smile widened and he reached forward to place another soft kiss on familiar lips. When he pulled away, he signed, 

_Me too, A-A-R-O-N._ His boyfriend laughed, and then he was kissing him again.

It had become a routine for Wesley at this point. He would show up at the red brick building once every week or two weeks, depending on what excuse he was using, and they would make out on Aaron’s couch or bed, after which Wesley would tell him he had to go, and Aaron would do his best to keep him from leaving the apartment until he was forced to give up, letting Wes go on the condition that he promised to come back as soon as he could. 

Aaron was a Junior in Grady’s school, having moved in from California at the beginning of the year after his parents decided he was going to attend the University of Austin, their alma mater, and should learn to live on his own before that. ‘Get it out of your system’, he quoted his parents once, writing it down for Wesley to read. He was also the building’s owner’s nephew, meaning he got a small studio apartment all to himself.

Everyone at Grady’s school loved Aaron. His father was from Hawaii and his mother was the daughter of German immigrants in California, resulting in a tall boy with dark curls, almond dark eyes, and dark sun-kissed skin that all the girls swooned over. He was funny, outgoing, and did well in school. It wasn’t a surprise that everyone at school loved him. 

Everyone, that is, except Grady. 

Wes first heard of Aaron when Grady asked him to go with him to a party being thrown by one of his friends. Everyone was invited, and after begging Misha and Faina, they agreed to let the boys go for a few hours, as long as they respected the 10 PM curfew. According to Grady, the new kid Aaron was totally about to snatch Grady’s crush, a sweet girl from a different school named Cassie, who was a solid three inches taller than Grady and would destroy everybody mercilessly during dodgeball. Grady would often talk about how cool and tall she was, how she was strong and smart and sweet, how beautiful her rich ebony skin was, how one time she explained to him that her hairstyle was called a box-braid and he thought it was so cool that they had named a hairdo after boxing. She’d laughed at that and Grady had ridden that high for a whole week. However, he was convinced that Aaron had eyes for Cassie and, being taller and stronger than Grady, totally had better chances. So Wes’ job was to distract Aaron, who apparently had a competitive streak, by challenging him to sports while Grady tried to get some action with Cassie. 

Needless to say, Wes hated the plan. First of all, it was a crappy plan. If Wesley wasn’t able to beat Aaron, the challenges would be over quickly. A similar situation could happen if he beat Aaron at everything. Secondly, Wesley wasn’t sure he could handle watching Grady make out with a tall gorgeous girl. 

Wesley realized early on that he was different in more ways than one. Not only was he deaf and a mutant, but deep down, Wesley had somehow always known that he didn’t like girls. At first he didn’t understand why you would want to kiss them. As time went by and Grady slowly started talking about them more and more, Wesley realized that not only did he not want to kiss them, he sure as hell wouldn’t want to marry a girl, much less sleep with them. In retrospect, he’d always known. While Grady and all the other boys were swooning over Princess Leia, Wes would watch Han Solo and Luke’s battles with rapt attention, feeling warm inside when there was a close up shot of their handsome features, and feeling a small hope that at some point, maybe they would kiss. It was at the age of 13 that Wes realized that yes, he was gay, but not only that, he had a huge crush on his best friend Grady. 

Living with his crush presented various challenges for Wesley. On one hand, it was amazing. He would wake up everyday with his bed next to Grady’s, one of his wings spread over his friend’s sleeping figure, invoking warm and content feelings in his chest. They would spend the day together, playing and talking and laughing and just hanging out. It was perfect. 

However, it was also terrible. Wesley would often find himself staring at his best friend, his stomach a fluttering mess, and feeling the strongest urge to kiss him. But he couldn’t. Not only because he was pretty sure Grady would punch him if he did, but because he knew for a fact that Grady didn’t like boys. All he would talk about was girls at school, who was hot and who was dating who, who was worth hitting on and who he wanted to hook up with. Wes would listen and agree whenever he could, but inside his stomach kept twisting in knots, getting tighter with every passing minute the conversation would drag on. To top it off, Wes could never guess if a girl was attractive. Sometimes Grady would open up a sleazy magazine one of his friends had lent him to a picture of a half-naked woman, and Wes would make a face.

“You’re so weird,” Grady would tease. Wes would laugh, hiding the way he felt his world crumble every time he heard those words from his best friend’s mouth. 

However, Wes would have been happy just loving Grady from afar, hoping that this crush would eventually fade away. Maybe one day in the future he would tell Grady and they would laugh about it. Maybe one day, he would find himself someone that would love him back, and Grady would be the best man at his wedding! It would have to be a secret wedding, but that was alright. As long as he had his best friend at his side, he didn’t care what type of wedding it was.

But that all changed one September evening. They’d been watching TV together in the living room, Wes and Misha reading while the remaining three watched a comedy show, when a man appeared on the screen dressed as a woman, his chest stuffed with obnoxiously big spheres and his makeup exaggerated and obscene. Wesley honestly hadn’t noticed, he’d been too busy stealing glances at Grady from above his book, watching the way the colors of the television danced across his face, the shape of his nose and the outline of his parted lips. Grady made a face at the man, and muttered a disgusted,

“That’s so gay.” 

Wesley felt a paralyzing cold flush over his body, his eyes quickly returning to his book, his hands clenching the sides so hard his knuckles went white. He didn’t notice as Misha and Faina scolded Grady, telling him there was nothing wrong with being gay and that saying those things made him no better than the bullies that tried to beat him up for being Jewish. Grady had the decency to look ashamed and apologized begrudgingly, feeling particularly embarrassed at being compared to the bullies that had chased him a few years previous. He didn’t notice his parents exchange a small concerned look, both of them glancing over at Wesley who was now buried in his book, trying to keep the tears gathering in his eyes at bay. 

It was on that day that he realized he would never be able to tell Grady about this side of himself. He would never be able to tell Grady about his crush on him, or if he got a boyfriend in the future. For a whole week, he would cry about it in the shower, feeling the shame and betrayal gnaw at his chest. But after a few weeks, he’d come to terms with it. He’d never tell Grady about his crush, or who he liked. It was okay. It wasn’t like it was any different with anybody else in his life.

The crush, however, didn’t subside, even after that terrible September evening, and the thought of going to a party to help Grady hook up with a girl made his chest hurt and his stomach clench with jealousy. But he couldn’t let it show, so he agreed, told him he would be the best wingman, pun intended, and help him get with Cassie. Grady called him the best friend ever, hugged him, and left to get dressed, leaving Wesley feeling empty and resigned. 

The party had been awful to begin with. It was at a house out in the suburbs, some highschooler whose parents had left for the weekend and lived in a nice neighborhood with a soccer field and a basketball court. They arrived by bus, and the moment Wesley walked through the front door, he became aware of how dim the whole space was. He could feel the vibrations of music in the air, thumping his chest gently, but he felt at loss, his eyes struggling to adapt to the lighting. He turned towards Grady, about to reach out for his elbow, when he realized the shorter teen wasn’t there. He looked around hastily, and felt his heart sink when he saw Grady talking to a taller girl with a gentle smile and big braids. Cassie, he thought, and his stomach twisted into a knot. Wes slowly made his way over to a corner of the room, crossing his arms and brooding. Every so often he would look over and watch Cassie laugh loudly at something Grady has said. He was talking to her, his mouth going a mile per minute, his eyes bright and excited. Wesley berated himself for spying on his best friend, it wasn’t making him feel any better anyway. 

Wesley felt out of place. Everybody at the party was dressed up in nice clothes and cool outfits. He felt ridiculous in his baggy jeans, worn white tennis shoes and a plain black shirt under a red sweater. 

There was suddenly a commotion near the front door, catching Wesley’s attention. A tall figure walked through the door with a smile as bright as the sun and greeted the host of the party warmly. The moment he walked in, he was swarmed by a number of other teens, hands reaching out to pat his shoulder, give him a fist bump, ruffle his hair. The teen laughed and smiled and tried talking to everyone around him. He was handsome, Wesley noted, but he didn’t get a chance to consider anything else before Grady was suddenly dragging him towards the newcomer. He pushed them through the small crowd and practically pushed Wes into the new kid. It took a moment for Wesley to realize Grady was introducing him. He looked over at his friend just as he signed,

_This is the A-S-S-H-O-L-E I told you about. Just told him you’d stop all his goals in soccer._

_Where are we playing soccer?_ Wes asked. They didn’t realize they’d attracted a small crowd, the other teens watching with rapt attention as the boys signed. 

_There’s a field nearby._ He explained. Wesley nodded, turning back towards Aaron. The older teen was looking straight at him, his eyes gleaming with such intensity it made him shiver. He had big dark eyes, one of Wesley’s weaknesses, and dark curly hair, another of Wesley’s weaknesses. His cheekbones were sharp, though, and his lips were thin, but above all, he had a great smile. 

Wesley put his hand out, shaking Aaron’s with a tight grip, the older teen’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise. 

“Nice to meet you Wes,” Aaron said, Wesley struggling to read his lips in the dim light. “Let’s see what you’re made of.” 

At first, they’d had a crowd of ten or twelve people follow them around and watch them compete. However, two hours later, the crowd had returned to the party, leaving Wesley and Aaron alone. Wesley had beat Aaron at two out of four different games and challenges at this point. He’d stopped a majority of his goals on the soccer field and thrown a baseball further than him, but Aaron had beat him in sprinting (it wasn’t easy to sprint with wings) and Wes had failed to beat the other boy at arm wrestling. 

“Tie-breaker, one last game!” Aaron said. Wesley nodded, and Aaron left towards the house, returning with a basketball. 

They spent the next half hour shooting hoops, Aaron getting progressively more upset as Wesley proved to be a natural and kept scoring. He scored his 15th basket, their agreed goal, and Aaron collapsed on the ground, his large hands covering his face. The tall boy kicked his legs out in a faux tantrum uncovering his face to yell something, a smile upon his face. Wesley let out a laugh, immediately covering his mouth when Aaron sat up, his eyes staring at Wes in surprise.

“Did you laugh?” He asked, “Did you just laugh at me?” 

Wesley ducked his head in shame. He knew his voice wasn’t pleasant to hear, there was a reason he tried his best to not laugh in front of anybody except the Berzinskis. A gentle hand was suddenly on his shoulder, startling him. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You have a nice laugh.” Aaron said. Wesley stared at him like he’d grown another head. Aaron laughed, “I mean it!” 

Wesley huffed and shook his head, but Aaron shoved him gently, making him grin as he pushed the older teen back, both of them smiling widely. I’m having fun, he realized, he’s really fun. After a brief rematch where he destroyed Aaron again, the tall boy had laughed and tackled him playfully, messing up his hair and telling him he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. Wesley agreed, writing it down on his notebook. Aaron smiled as he read Wesley’s handwriting, and for a moment, Wesley’s chest was filled with warmth. 

“I’m glad,” Aaron said, he took the notebook from Wesley, scribbling ‘Should we call it a night?’

Wesley paused at that, suddenly remembering their curfew, and checked his watch. He grimaced and quickly scribbled,

‘I need to be home by 10’ for Aaron to read. Aaron checked his own watch as well, reading 9:15. He took the notebook from Wes and started writing,

‘I can drive you and Grady,’ he offered, his eyes hopeful. Wes smiled and nodded in thanks. The boys slowly walked back to the house where the party was still happening. It was dark and chilly outside. Aaron started rubbing his arms, his skin breaking out into goosebumps, and before Wesley could consider the implications of his next actions, he pulled off his own red sweater, offering it to the older teen. Aaron paused, lookin at Wesley with a curious expression. Wesley felt himself flush, starting to retreat his offer when strong hands snatched the fabric from his hands. Aaron tugged the sweater on, immediately sighing at the feeling of the warm material. 

“Thanks,” he said, a soft smile on his lips. Wes blushed, nodding as they continued to walk.

When they arrived, the boys split up to look for Grady. It took Wesley a whole five minutes to find his best friend, but when he did he immediately wished he hadn’t. Grady’s night had proven to be successful, if finding him in a corner of the dark living room making out with Cassie was any indication. Wes stood there, unsure what to do, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Aaron smiled at him, winking once before holding up a finger and walking over towards the couple in the corner. Wes wasn’t sure what he said to them, but Grady looked over with an annoyed expression, caught sight of Wes, and nodded before diving back into Cassie’s arms. Wes looked away, blushing, and feeling relieved when Aaron’s gente hand took hold of his wrist and led him out of the house. 

‘Grady said he would meet you at the house at 10’, Aaron scribbled onto the notebook, ‘I’ll give you a ride.’ Wes thanked him and followed him to a small mint-colored Volkswagen Golf. The drive was quiet, Wesley taking a moment to open the window and let the cool fall breeze wash over him. He tried his best to not think about Grady kissing Cassie, the way his lips pressed to hers and his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. Wes opened his eyes when the car stopped, realizing they’d arrived at the block where he lived. He looked over at Aaron, ready to thank him, when his notebook was pushed into his hands hastily. He looked down at the opened page and felt his heart stop.

‘Sorry if I’m reading this wrong but can I kiss you?’ 

Wesley’s heart skipped a beat. He looked up at Aaron, who was staring down at his hands, looking embarrassed and tense. Wesley had never kissed anybody before, and honestly didn’t think he would for a long time. And Aaron was amazing, he understood why all the girls swooned when he walked in and why everyone loved him. He was a good guy, physically fit and very good looking, and for some reason, he wanted to kiss Wesley. He suddenly felt giddy. Wes took a deep breath, and with all the courage he had, reached over a shaking hand and placed it on Aaron’s warm cheek. Aaron’s eyes shot up, and suddenly Wes was being crowded into his seat, warm lips on his and strong hands on his chest. 

Wesley could feel his heart beat rise, his stomach filled with butterflies as Aaron slowly sat back, staring into Wesley’s eyes. He looked down at his lips, as if asking for permission. Wesley didn’t answer, instead surging forward and kissing Aaron with everything he had. If this was his one chance to make out with a hot guy, he was going to enjoy it.

Wesley gasped when he felt an experienced tongue slide between his lips, and suddenly he went from having his first kiss to his first French kiss. He was suddenly very lightheaded, trying to keep up with Aaron’s affections.

He wasn’t sure how long they made out for, but Aaron pulled away suddenly, leaving Wesley cold and breathless, as two people walked by their car. It took a few minutes of catching their breath before Aaron took the notebook back and scribbled something else one it.

‘Here’s my address, I live alone. If you ever want to meet up again, just show up. I’m always free after school.’ Followed by an address that was about a half hour walk from the Berzinski’s apartment. Wes looked up, nodding with a smile, and Aaron smiled back before reaching over and placing a tender kiss on his lips. Wes sighed into it, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling before opening them as Aaron pulled back.

“I’ll see you later then, handsome,” Aaron said, and Wesley nodded before getting out of the car. Just as he was going to close the door, Aaron waved at him, catching his attention. The older teen pulled the red sweater off, Wesley blushing as the motion pulled up his shirt, showing off a toned abdomen. Aaron threw the sweater at Wes’ red face, the younger teen catching it last minute. Aaron laughed and waved, winking at Wesley, who smiled and closed the car door. He watched Aaron drive away, his stomach filled with butterflies as he walked over and sat down on the concrete steps leading up to the front door. He sat there, daydreaming about his first kiss - his first _French_ kiss - and about Aaron’s lips, when a red car pulled up in front of the apartment and a tipsy Grady crashed out of it. He turned and said something to the driver, a boy Wes was unfamiliar with, and the car drove away. Grady turned, his eyes landing on Wes who stared back, expression blank. 

_You,_ Grady signed slowly, _are the best friend in the world._ Grady was smiling when he crashed down next to Wes, pulling him into a one-armed hug. Wes smiled and returned the hug, his heart clenching as he buried his nose into Grady’s dark curls, smelling their shared shampoo and Grady’s terrible cologne. His heart clenched, his body hyper aware of Grady’s arm wrapped around his middle, his hand digging into the flesh of his side. He was suddenly lightheaded again. They sat there, leaning on each other for a few more minutes, before Wesley realized they were going to miss curfew if they didn’t head up soon. They continued up the steps to the apartment with their arms slung across each other, Wesley trying to focus as he felt Grady’s breath against his neck, his head leaning on Wes’ shoulder. Faina and Misha were in the living room when they arrived, looking at the clock as it struck 10 PM exactly, and giving them an impressed ‘that was close but you made it’ look. Wesley quickly pulled Grady away before his parents could notice he was tipsy, although he suspected nothing ever really got past Faina. Grady showered, brushed his teeth, and was in bed in record time, snoring loudly. Wes, however, took a little longer. 

This crush wasn’t going to go away, he realized as he stood in the shower, warm water dripping down his body. He felt his chest burn with shame. He had just gotten a kiss from the hottest boy in school, and yet, his heart was more affected by holding Grady close than the whole make out session with Aaron. He was in too deep. Suddenly, he remembered the page in his notebook with Aaron’s address. He quickly finished showering and quietly returned to the room, relieved to see Grady still passed out. He retrieved his notebook from his jean’s pocket and flipped to the page. He stared at the address for a moment before ripping it out and folding it carefully. He had a crush on his best friend, but maybe, he thought, maybe if he kept seeing Aaron over time, then the crush would eventually go away.

It didn’t, but Aaron had certainly carved himself a spot in Wesley’s heart. 

Wesley considered this as they lay face down, shirtless on Aaron’s bed, the older boy tracing patterns across Wes’ wings. It hadn’t taken long for Aaron to realize their existence, and after a panic attack on Wesley’s behalf, he had explained that he didn’t care. He cared about Wesley, and he wasn’t going to tell anybody about the wings. In fact, Aaron loved them. He loved burying his hands into the soft feathers when they made out and looking down at Wes when they lay in bed, his full 11 foot wing-span spread out beneath him. Right now, he was enjoying the feeling of tracing each soft feather. 

“What are you thinking about?” Aaron asked, making sure Wesley’s green eyes were focused on him before speaking. Wesley smiled at him, reaching up to tap his index finger against Aaron’s nose. 

_You._ It wasn’t untrue, but he considered that telling his boyfriend about how he had a crush on his childhood friend, who he happened to live with, probably wasn’t a great idea. Aaron smiled and pushed himself onto his elbows, leaning over and kissing Wesley. Wesley relaxed into the kiss, running a hand up Aaron’s toned back and letting it rest over his right shoulder blade, breathing in his smell and enjoying his taste. 

Aaron always made Wesley breathless. He was far more experienced, having had boyfriends and girlfriends before, and knew what to do with his hands and lips. Knew how to transform Wes into putty, the younger teen melting under his affections. But he was also gentle, and careful. 

The first time Wesley had come over, he’d been shaking. He’d been asked to go pick up something from the grocery store with Grady. Grady had agreed, but as soon as they left the apartment, he told Wes he actually wanted to go meet up with Cassie, and that if Wes promised to cover for him, he would make it up to him. Wes’ stomach sunk, but he nodded, Grady patting him on the shoulder before thanking him and heading off towards whatever location Cassie and him had picked out. Wesley walked away with tears prickling his eyes. He was checking out at the supermarket when he remembered Aaron’s address, stuffed in his back pocket. He’d made it a habit to keep it with him, not trusting Grady not to find it in their shared room. The shorter teen had a habit of turning the room upside down whenever he lost something, his side of the room messier than Wes’ own, and Wes wasn’t prepared to explain a note that said: ‘Apt. 303, can’t wait to see you again handsome’. 

Wesley walked out of the supermarket, the paper tightly clutched in his right hand and a bag of fresh produce, milk and eggs in the other. He glanced to his left, the direction that would take him home, and then to the right, the direction to Aaron’s house. He stood there for about five minutes, the back of his neck sweating and the top of his head burning in the hot Austin sun, when a gentle hand on his elbow got his attention. He jumped, stuffing the paper into his pockets, and for a moment, he thought maybe Grady had come back to the supermarket, and his heart skipped a beat. Instead, he was met with a bright smile. It took all the self-control Wes had to not let the disappointment show on his face as Aaron greeted him. 

“Hey Wes,” Aaron said, Wesley’s eyes focusing on soft lips as he read them, “So you shop here too, huh?” 

Wesley glanced at the supermarket behind them, nodding with a small smile.

“Cool!” He said, “It’s really close to where I live.” 

Wesley nodded, feeling more at ease the more Aaron spoke to him. He was a nice guy, Wesley reminded himself, easy to talk to. Aaron paused, smiling warmly at Wes, before asking,

“Were you heading home? Want me to walk with you?” 

Wesley began to dig out his notebook and pencil to answer, about to scribble down that he was actually going to wait for Grady, when his hand faltered. Grady… was probably making out with his girlfriend right now. And Wes was going to just sit in the intersection where they parted and think about it the whole time. He felt jealousy bubble up in his stomach, as well as shame. Grady wasn’t into him like that, he reminded himself. He never would be. 

Wes felt his heart rate rise as he wrote a single phrase on his notebook and quickly passed it to Aaron, his eyes glued onto the older teen’s dark eyes as he read the words:

‘Can I come over?’

The walk to Aaron’s apartment had been brief, but in Wes’ mind it took forever. They entered the red building and walked up to the third floor, Wesley feeling his throat tighten as Aaron unlocked his front door and invited him in. 

He was alone, in the apartment of a boy who liked him. A boy who probably wanted to do more than make out. A seventeen year old boy. Wesley stood paralized, sweat dripping down his back, as he watched Aaron close and lock the door. He was going to be sick. 

The moment Aaron turned around, his face shifted into concern. He slowly walked up to Wes, who unconsciously curled into himself, and asked.

“Are you okay?” 

Wesley didn’t know what to answer, and with shaking hands pulled out his notebook.

‘I’ve never done this before. Any of this.’ He wrote, his stomach twisting in knots as he watched dark eyes skim the paper, realization dawning upon them. Aaron took the pencil and wrote,

‘It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything. We can just hang out and talk, or I can cook something for us to eat. Don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t wanna do.’ Aaron’s handwriting was neat, following the pale blue lines on the notebook paper. Wesley stared at it, marveling at how different it was from Grady’s. The shorter teen had always written large and bold, taking up all the space. Wesley shoved Grady out of his mind and tried to focus.

‘What about the kiss?’ he scribbled, feeling childish when he felt a blush creep up his cheeks. Aaron read the note and gave a small smile.

‘It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. I really like you, even if you just want to be friends, it’s okay.’ 

Wesley let out a long breath, looking up at Aaron with a small smile. 

‘Thanks.’ he wrote,

‘No problem, take your time. Want something to drink?’

Wesley sat down at a small two-person dining table and Aaron offered him freshly squeezed orange juice. Wesley accepted the offer, staring at the way Aaron’s arm muscles flexed as he worked the manual juicer. After Aaron came back with two glasses, they began scribbling conversations on the small notebook. Aaron was funny and kind, always laughing at Wes’ jokes, his smile genuine and his eyes tender. He eventually challenged Wesley to a game of chess, easily beating the other teen before dragging his chair to sit next to Wes and explaining different techniques to him. Wesley stared at Aaron as he explained, reading his lips and occasionally reading what he wrote, and felt something warm spark in his stomach. 

‘He’s sweet,’ he thought, ‘and patient.’ 

Eventually, though, the responsible side of Wesley’s brain jolted to life, getting his attention and reminding him that he should be returning home and meeting up with Grady. He felt disappointment curse through him as he placed a gentle hand on Aaron’s shoulder, interrupting him mid-sentence, and wrote down,

‘I have to go. They don’t know I’m here.’ 

Aaron nodded, understanding, and gave Wesley a bright smile.

‘Okay, I’ll walk you out.’

Wesley gathered his groceries, stored in the fridge to keep them cool, and walked to the front door where Aaron was waiting for him. The older teen was wearing a plain white t-shirt with fitted black pants and white shoes. He looked good, his lean frame accented in all the best possible ways, and Wesley suddenly felt self-conscious in his yellow graphic t-shirt, baggy pants and old, worn sneakers. He glanced down and winced when he remembered he was wearing the stupid t-shirt Grady had bought for him as a joke a few months back, ‘Just Peachy’ it said in bright pink letters. He looked up and saw Aaron staring at the shirt, a big smile on his face, and before he could begin to defend himself, Aaron spoke,

“I like your outfit, you look good.” 

Wesley felt himself blush, ducking his head and smiling bashfully. A soft tap on his shoulder brought his attention back to Aaron,

“I had a lot of fun today! If you ever want to hang out, you can always drop by.” He explained, his expression hopeful. Wesley stared back at the older teen, surprised when he realized he had a great time too. Aaron was sweet, funny, and smart. He made him feel comfortable, and he was okay with just being friends. He liked Wes for who he was, had gone out of his way to try and keep him in his life. Wesley felt his heart squeeze, staring into dark eyes, and before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss on Aaron’s lips, quickly pulling back, his face crimson.

Aaron stared back, eyes wide and lips parted. It took him a moment to move, reaching over and taking Wes’ notebook and pencil. 

‘I’m a little confused.’ He wrote, and quickly added, ‘In a good way!’ beneath it. 

Wesley smiled, before writing.

‘Me too, but I like you. We just have to go slow.’ Aaron nodded quickly, scribbling.

‘Of course! I can go slow, as slow as you want, and if you ever want to stop just let me know.’ 

Wesley smiled fully now, his stomach pleasantly warm and his heart beating loudly in his chest. 

‘I’ll see you next week, same time.’ he wrote, and before he could chicken out, gave Aaron another kiss, this one a little longer, softer than the first. When he pulled away, Aaron was staring at him dreamily. He waved and quickly let himself out of the apartment, jogging down the hall and down the stairs until he was practically jumping out the front door, his heart beating in his ears and a wide smile on his face. He didn’t stop jogging, tracing his steps to return home.

He had a boyfriend, or well, someone who liked him. And he was handsome and smart and kind and made Wesley’s insides melt. He wanted to scream in excitement, wanted to jump and spread his wings and tell Grady and…

He stopped slowly to a halt, his smile fading from his face.

He couldn’t tell Grady. 

There was no way Grady would understand, he just knew it. He would probably ask him to move out of their shared room, he might even tell his parents, and that single thought made Wesley’s stomach twist. He couldn’t tell his best friend, and it made him want to cry.

Wesley walked the rest of the distance until he reached the designated intersection, surprised to find Grady sitting on the steps of one of the buildings, his elbows resting on his knees and his face set on a deep grimace. The moment he saw Wesley, he stood up and approached him.

_Where have you been? It’s been like an hour._

Wesley felt his throat tighten. Grady was looking at him expectantly, his dark eyes annoyed, and it took all of Wesley’s strength to not break down and tell him anything. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose Grady.

_I thought you would take a while so I went for a walk._ He answered. _I thought you and Cassie were going to… do stuff._

Grady huffed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

_No… I just said hi. Nothing happened._

Wesley nodded, understanding.

_Whatever man, let’s get out of here._ Grady signed, turning around and heading home. 

From that day on, once or twice a week, Wesley would find a way to go to the store alone. He’d either leave before Grady and Michaelle were back from school, or he would coordinate to go when they were busy. And with every visit, his encounters with Aaron got more and more serious. They slowly went from exchanging small kisses at the dinning table to making out on the couch, to making out shirtless on Aaron’s bed. But Aaron never pushed, letting Wesley decide what he wanted to do and how far he wanted to go. He loved it, and he couldn’t get enough of the tall handsome boy with sun-kissed skin, a bright smile, and soft lips.

Soft lips that were currently trailing Wes’ jaw, dipping down and pressing softly against his neck. Wesley sighed, tangling his fingers in black hair and guiding those lips to the spot beneath his ear that made him shiver, his feathers puffing out and his back arching. Aaron pulled back, Wesley gently releasing the grip on his locks, and stared down at Wesley with an openly loving expression.

“I wish I could take you out, babe,” Aaron said, Wesley reading his lips attentively. “I would take you to the movies and kiss you in the back row, share a milkshake and burgers down at Hut’s, hold hands and walk around a park, spend an evening with you at the library, I love watching you read…” Wesley felt himself blush. Aaron had caught him reading the one time Wesley showed up while his boyfriend was out running a last minute errand. He’d sat down on Aaron’s couch and continued reading _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ , which he was enjoying thoroughly, only to look up and see Aaron watching him from the door frame, a small smile on his lips. 

Wesley reached for his notebook, buried under the bedsheets, and scribbled a quick,

‘We can’t do those things.’

Aaron sighed, taking the notebook and scratching something out and underlining something else, turning it back to Wes,

‘We can ~~’t~~ do those things.’

Wesley took the notebook back.

‘We could. But then the Berzinskis would find out.’

Aaron looked down at Wes’ neat handwriting, a pensive look on his face, before he nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said, tracing a circle on his chest with his closed fist as he signed the word ‘sorry’. 

_It’s okay._ Wesley signed, one of the signs Aaron had learned. 

“I just wish we could do more things… as a couple.” He added, his expression disappointed. 

‘Me too, but that’s just how it is.’ Wesley wrote. Aaron nodded, before writing,

‘Maybe when you go to college we can live together. Nobody would ask us questions. We would be roommates and do everything together, and we wouldn’t have to worry about the Berzinskis finding out.’

Wesley read Aaron’s neatly written words, feeling his stomach churn slightly. A future without the Berzinskis? Without Grady? He felt his heart clench. But he couldn’t say that to Aaron, not when he was looking at him with those lovely dark eyes and a hopeful expression.

‘Yeah, maybe.’ He wrote back, enjoying the way Aaron’s eyes lit up. The older teen leaned down and kissed Wesley again, pressing him against his soft pillow. Wesley let himself be kissed, surrounded by the smell of Aaron’s detergent, and doing everything possible to push dark glaring eyes and a familiar grimace out of his mind. 

About twenty minutes later, Wesley walked out of Aaron’s apartment building, his groceries in hand, and began walking back home. He felt conflicted, thinking about Aaron’s hopeful expression and soft kisses, but also thinking about the Berzinskis. They had done so much for him, Misha in particular, taking him in and educating him and making him feel loved. It felt terrible, hiding this from them, lying about going to the grocery store and showing up to the apartment after making out with his secret boyfriend. Not to mention the fear he felt whenever Misha or Michaelle would hug him when he’d arrive home, Wesley secretly hoping Aaron’s detergent wasn’t lingering on his clothes, that his own hair didn’t look too messy, that his clothes didn’t look too rumpled. He could end it, he considered, it would be easier. He could go back to his life, surrounded by the Berzinskis, not worrying about them finding out, waking up every day next to Grady and feeling he was going to burst from his seams because of how much he wanted to kiss him…

No. He couldn’t go back. He really liked Aaron, he liked spending time with him and holding him close and kissing him. He was a wonderful boyfriend and Wesley couldn’t fathom how lucky he was some days. Aaron Kane, the hottest boy at Grady’s school, the sweet independent boy with a golden heart and a bright smile. The boy with a competitive streak that was a terrible loser but a great winner, always offering his help. He could have any of the many beautiful girls, or guys, at his school, but no. Instead, he wanted to spend time with him, the deaf, mutant home-schooled kid he met at a party. He wanted to tell Wesley how handsome and smart he was, wanted to laugh at his jokes and listen to his stories. He had even started learning ASL for him. He was perfect. 

But he wasn’t who Wesley really wanted.

Wesley stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and berated himself, his heart heavy and his head filled with turmoil. Just as he was about to keep walking, a gentle hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. He whirled around to find Aaron standing behind him, a milk carton in his hand.

_You forgot._ He signed, pausing as he remembered the sign. Wesley smiled, suddenly hyper aware that Aaron was standing further away than he usually would when they were alone. 

He knew why, but it still stung.

_Thank you,_ he signed, _I’ll see you next week._

Aaron smiled, catching the words next and week, and seemingly putting the rest together through context. He nodded, and with a brief smile, returned to his apartment. Wesley turned, heading home, his heart heavy in his chest. 

He didn’t notice the pair of dark eyes watching him from across the street.

**...**

Grady was going to throw a fit.

Wesley was lying to him. 

Wesley had been a terrible liar when he’d first arrived, blushing deeply and averting his gaze whenever he tried, but he’d gotten better over the years thanks to Grady’s wonderful mentoring. He needed a partner in crime, after all, someone to cover his back if one of his great ideas went awry. Grady was regretting it now.

He’d first noticed something was wrong two weeks ago. He’d gone over to Cassie’s house and she’d broken up with him on the spot. He’d nodded, tried not to cry, and left. Her house was a 50 minute walk roundtrip, so it took him a whole hour to get his heart broken before he arrived back at the intersection where he usually waited for Wes. He sat down, staring at his hands, when he realized he didn’t want to be alone. He got up and kept walking, hoping to run into Wes at the grocery store. He was probably still shopping, the tall teen always taking his time to pick out the best vegetables and find the cheapest price possible. It usually annoyed Grady, who wanted to buy things and get out, but he appreciated his friend making an effort to save his family money and get them good food. 

He arrived at the grocery store and entered, slowly walking past every aisle, looking for a tall frame and auburn hair. He paused as he made it to the last aisle, realizing Wes wasn’t there. Had he missed him? He walked up and down the aisle once, twice, and after the third time felt frustration bubble up in his throat. Where was the damn guy?

Grady exited the grocery store, looking left and then right, trying to find the taller teen. Suddenly, dread started to pool in his stomach. What if something had happened to him? What if someone had found out about the wings and now Wes was in danger? Grady took a few deep breaths, trying to figure out what to do next. He should check the intersection.

Grady ran back to the intersection, his stomach sinking when he realized there was nobody there. He cursed and ran back towards the grocery store, his heart beating wildly in his chest, when he took a sharp turn and ran straight into a familiar graphic tee. 

_Are you okay?_ Wesley signed, Grady taking a moment to gather his bearings as he recognized him. He looked over Wes, realizing he looked fine, nothing out of place. He was okay. Grady felt his anger bubble up.

_Where the F-U-C-K were you?_ Grady asked, his eyes furious. Wesley seemed taken aback, his face paling momentarily.

_I was at the grocery store._ He explained calmly. 

_What?_

_I just got done._

Grady felt his anger simmer down, replaced by cold dread. 

And that was when he realized Wesley was lying to him. 

He had just been at the grocery store, literally a few minutes ago, and Wesley was nowhere to be seen. Grady stared up at his friend, brow furrowed. Wesley, in contrast, could feel the sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

_I was worried,_ Grady signed, _I looked into the grocery store and didn’t see you. Thought something bad had happened to you._

Wesley’s eyes softened, his shoulders relaxing minutely.

_You were worried about me? That’s so sweet._ Wesley signed, a taunting smile on his lips. Grady bristled, shoving Wesley softly, 

_Shut up, you’re lucky I worry about you._

_I know. Thank you._

Grady paused, wondering if he should ask Wesley about the blatant lie. If he should mention that he ran up and down the stupid grocery store like an idiot for a whole ten minutes. But something told him he shouldn’t. They walked home, bickering like they always did, but the seed had been planted in Grady’s head, and very quickly, it started spreading roots.

Grady told Wesley he wouldn't be able to go with him to the store the following week. Wesley nodded before waving goodbye and heading out. Grady waited some time before he very quietly put on his shoes and left the apartment. He saw a familiar head of auburn hair at the end of the block as he exited the building, and so he began his master plan.

He followed Wesley all the way to the store, making sure he kept enough distance to not be seen while still keeping track of his friend. As Wes entered the store, Grady ducked behind a large truck near the entrance. The taller teen reemerged from the store after a few minutes, much faster than he usually did, and paused, looking up and down the street. Grady panicked, ducking behind the truck. Had Wesley seen him? Was his cover blown? He waited a few seconds, took a deep breath, and chanced a quick glance. 

He was gone. 

Grady narrowed his eyes, looking up and down the street, but Wesley was nowhere to be found. After five minutes, he decided to leave his hiding spot and check the grocery store. It didn’t take long to realize Wesley wasn’t there either. 

‘Fuck’, Grady thought. He could wait for him, but he had no idea where he would be coming from. Twenty minutes later, he cut his losses and headed home. Grady was sitting on his bed listening to Minor Threat on his small radio when Wesley entered the room, having returned from 'groceries'.

_How are you?_ Wesley asked. Grady shrugged, 

_I'm fine._ He answered, _how was the grocery store?_

Wesley shrugged.

_The usual._ He signed. Grady nodded, icy cold resentment pooling in his stomach. He needed a better plan.

The following week, he tried again. 

He slowly followed Wes to the store, but this time hid behind a car parked across the street, and waited. A few minutes later, Wesley exited the building and paused, looked up and down the street, and started walking in the opposite direction of their house. Grady gaped, frozen in place before he realized he was going to lose the taller teen if he didn’t keep up. He followed him for a while, suddenly worried he might not remember the way back if he lost Wes, when the taller teen stopped. Grady dashed into an alleyway just as Wesley looked up and down the street once more. Grady peeked almost immediately, just in time to watch the taller boy walk up the steps of a red building and unlock the front door with a key. 

Grady gasped, and Wesley disappeared into the building.

What the fuck was going on?

Grady stared at the entrance, finally deciding that he should probably find a better vantage point if he wanted to really find out what Wesley was up to. He dashed across the street after looking both ways and ducked into another alley, stepping behind a dumpster that smelled foul. He scrunched his nose as he tried to look through the windows of the apartment building. Nothing. 

Wesley had to leave at some point, right? He had to come out and bring the groceries home. It was okay, Grady thought, he could wait.

Thirty minutes later, Grady had formulated four different ways in which he could break into the apartment and track down Wes, one of which may or may not have included arson. 

Just as he was going to cross the street and try to tailgate behind a lady who was pulling out a set of keys and walking up the steps, a familiar tall figure exited the front door, and Grady dashed behind the dumpster again. God, he hoped he didn’t reek after this.

Wesley calmly left the apartment building, his face expressionless as he started walking back towards the grocery store. Just as Grady considered leaving his spot, another familiar figure walked out of the building, and Grady felt his heart stop. 

Aaron, in all his fashionable and handsome glory, stepped out of the apartment with a milk carton in one hand, his eyes scanning the street and landing on auburn curls. He jogged over to Wesley, who had paused, looking lost in his thoughts, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Wesley turned around, and the moment he saw Aaron smiled. 

_You forgot._ Aaron signed in ASL, and Grady felt like his head was going to explode. 

_Thank you, see you next week._ Wesley answered, taking the carton from him. Aaron gave him a last smile before turning and leaving. Wes watched him go for a moment before turning around heading back towards the grocery store, leaving a confused Grady standing behind the dumpster like an idiot. 

So this was it. Wesley was lying to Grady about hanging out with Aaron. Wesley had a new friend and didn’t want Grady to know about it. 

Honestly, it hurt. A lot. He tried to think of the many reasons Wesley would have to hide this. To be fair, Grady did mention he didn’t like Aaron, many times. The older teen always made him feel inferior. He reminded Grady of all the things he wasn’t. Great at school, charming, tall, attractive, kind, well-liked… The list went on for miles. And now he had to find out that not only was he better at all those things, he was also a better friend. He knew Aaron didn’t know ASL, and yet somehow here he was, signing to Wesley calmly. Not only that, but Wesley had gone out of his way to lie to everybody in the house about it. This wasn’t just Grady, he had lied to his parents, to Michaelle for crying out loud. Wesley had the softest spot for his little sister, always caving when she asked him for something, never refusing her anything. And yet, he had lied to them. And for what? For Aaron?

Grady felt anger swell in his chest, pressing against his lungs and heart. There was only one reasonable explanation for this. Wesley, the sweet angel that he was, had probably decided that he wanted to spare Grady’s feelings instead of telling him that a single night of playing games with Aaron, his self-proclaimed enemy, who couldn’t even communicate with ASL at the time, was enough for Wesley to decide Aaron was going to become his new friend. Grady left his hiding spot, slowly making his way back. He got home and went straight to the shower, entering his room in a towel a few minutes later. Wesley was lying on his bed, reading, but looked up as his friend walked in.

_How was school?_ Wesley asked. 

‘How was Aaron?’ Grady wanted to ask, his throat tightening at the thought. 

_It was normal. It sucked._ He signed angrily. Wesley seemed confused by his behavior, but decided to let him be, returning to his book.

He was gonna confront him about it, Grady decided. Nobody lied to his face like that and got away with it, not even his best friend.

‘If you can even call him that,’ a small voice in the back of Grady’s mind quipped, ‘his best friend is probably Aaron now. Anybody would rather be friends with Aaron than you.’

Grady crushed the voice, grinding his teeth.

He was going to do it. He was going to catch Wes red-handed.

The following week, Grady told Wesley he couldn't go with him to get groceries again. Wesley shrugged, and headed out. Grady counted to ten before dashing out the door and out the back of the apartment building. He followed Wes up until the grocery store, and after making sure the taller boy was shopping for food, he continued straight towards Aaron's apartment. He noticed the same lady from the previous week exiting the building, and just as she let go of the front door, Grady's hand reached out, snatching the doorknob tightly. He took a deep breath, and after looking up and down the street, entered the building. 

**...**

Wesley arrived at Aaron's apartment at the usual time. Aaron stored his groceries in the fridge and offered him some freshly cut fruit, which he happily accepted, before telling him as many compliments as he could say in ASL, making Wesley blush. After eating, he pushed Wes onto his bed and kissed him senseless.

Their shirts had come off like usual, Aaron taking the time to slowly unlatch Wes' harness. Wesley sighed as he unfurled his wings, gasping when Aaron began running his fingers through the speckled feathers. 

_You're very beautiful._ Aaron signed, reaching down and caressing Wesley's cheek gently with his knuckles. Wesley turned his face and pressed a gentle kiss on the older teen's hand. 

_You too._ He signed in return. Aaron smiled, leaning down to kiss Wesley when he abruptly sat up. His eyes were focused on the door. He looked down, locking eyes with Wes, who signed,

_Who?_

Aaron shrugged, slowly getting out of bed and tip-toeing towards the door. He jumped, apparently startled by another sound before he was striding towards the door and looking out the peep-hole. His face scrunched up, an expression Wes recognized as worry, and looked over at Wes. He seemed to hesitate, but another sound seemed to startle him, Wes sitting up when he saw the door shake.

_Who?_ He signed again. Aaron sighed.

G-R-A-D-Y. 

Wes felt his stomach drop into his feet, leaving a cold hole in its place. Aaron yelled something at the door, listened for a response, and then reached over and threw Wes’ harness at him before reaching for their shared notebook. Wes sat there frozen, holding the harness in cold sweaty hands as he tried to understand where he had gone wrong. He was always so careful, and Grady had said he was busy today. Why was he here? Did Grady even know he was here? Could he still maybe sneak out the window? His world was shattered when Aaron gave him the notebook,

‘He knows you’re here. He wants to come in. Do I let him in?’

Wes felt his breathing quicken, his hands spasming as he looked up at Aaron, eyes wide and worried. Aaron looked at him with equal concern, taking the notebook from his hands.

‘Says he just wants to talk. I won’t let him do anything. But he’s yelling and I don’t want the neighbors to find out.’ 

Wesley stared at the notebook, his heartbeat pulsing all over his body. Grady knew, and Grady wanted to talk. He was fucked either way, he might as well save Aaron from his neighbors. Wesley nodded and stood up, taking Aaron’s hand as he walked them over to the door. He watched as Aaron said something, waited for a response, and unlocked and opened the door. 

Grady was brimming with fury as he stalked into the apartment, Aaron closing the door carefully as Grady’s eyes narrowed onto Wes. 

_What the fuck. Why are you here?_ He signed aggressively. _You’ve been lying to me for weeks, maybe even months! And then I find out that you’re hanging out with fucking A-A-R-O-N? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you doing drugs? What are-_

Grady stopped abruptly, suddenly realizing that Wesley was standing in front of him shirtless, with messy hair and kissed lips. Aaron was saying something, trying to get his attention, but Grady was already looking around the room, his eyes landing on the messy bed with two clear indents in two separate pillows. 

Wes felt frozen in place, his mind moving a mile per minute as Grady slowly turned back towards him, realization clear in his eyes. Aaron was suddenly in front of him, facing Grady as one hand came back and held onto Wes’ own. He was saying something to Grady, but Grady’s eyes were glued on their joined hands, his face paling. 

“Can I talk to Wes? Alone?” Grady asked, the words clear on his lips. Aaron paused, looking over his shoulder at Wes, asking him if it was okay. In all honesty, he didn’t want to be left alone with Grady. He was terrified of what would happen, of what Grady would say. But he also knew this was inevitable. The truth was out, and the sooner he got this over with, the better.

Wes nodded, and Aaron turned around to face him, placing both hands on his face and whispering,

“I’ll be right outside.” After a brief nod, Aaron reached for his shirt, currently a wrinkled mess on the floor, and put it on before exiting the apartment, giving Wes one last look of reassurance before leaving. 

Grady didn’t watch Aaron leave. Instead, he stared at Wesley, a blank expression on his face. Before he could sign anything, Wesley stepped forward.

_We’re dating._ He signed. Grady flinched at that, eyes wide. _He kissed me the night of the party and we’ve been dating since. He’s good to me, and I like him a lot. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t think you’d understand._

_Since the party?_ Grady signed back, anger starting to creep back into his eyes, _you’ve been fucking A-A-R-O-N since the party? He’s 17!_

_We aren’t having sex!_ Wes answered aggressively, _and I don’t care. He’s careful and doesn’t push me to do anything, and he makes me feel safe. He respects me!_

Grady paused at that, Wes realizing that there were tears gathering in the corners of his dark eyes. 

_And I don’t?_ Grady asked. 

_What?_

_I don’t respect you?_

_You do! Of course you do._

_Then why didn’t you tell me you were G-A-Y!_ Grady’s signs were becoming frantic, his hands moving with less clarity.

_Because I didn’t want you to stop being my friend!_ Wes signed angrily. Grady froze. He looked like someone had slapped him across the face.

_Why would you think…_

_You always call things gay, especially things you don’t like, and all you talk about is girls. And every time I told you I wasn’t interested in a girl, you would ask me what was wrong with me. All the other boys like her, everybody says she’s hot, but not me! I’m a fucking freak, I’m deaf, I’m a mutant, and I’m gay, and nobody is ever going to want to stick around with someone like me!_ Wes didn’t realize he was crying until his vision blurred and his shoulders started heaving. He took in a painful breath and suddenly felt a pair of familiar arms wrapping around him, his body instinctively crumpling around Grady’s smaller frame, his wings slowly reaching out to wrap around them. 

He cried into Grady’s shoulder for a few minutes, feeling lightheaded as he was slowly dragged towards the couch and they sat down, Grady rubbing comforting circles on Wes’ back. 

_I’m sorry._ Grady signed, catching Wes’ attention. _I’m sorry, I’m the worst friend in the world._

_You’re a great friend._ Wes signed back, his face red and blotchy and wet. Grady pulled the sleeve of his sweater and bunched it into his fist, using the fabric to gently clean away Wes’ tears. Wes let him.

_I’m a shit friend. If I was a good friend you would be able to tell me everything without being scared that I would stop being your friend. I shouldn’t have been such an A-S-S-H-O-L-E._ Grady signed, a tear of his own slipping out from his eye. He quickly wiped it away. _I’m not mad that you’re gay, I was just mad that you were lying to me. But I get it, and I understand why you lied._

Wes nodded, feeling very tired suddenly. 

_I’m still sorry I lied._

_That’s okay._ Grady signed. He paused, looking over at the apartment’s front door. _You guys… make a good couple. He’s a good guy._

_I thought you didn’t like him._

_I didn’t like him because I thought he was hoarding all the girls, but I guess I was wrong._

_You’re not._ Wes signed. Grady’s eyebrows shot up, his expression openly confused. _He’s B-I-S-E-X-U-A-L, he likes boys and girls._

_Are you serious, so he’s hoarding all the girls and the boys?_ Grady signed, an incredulous expression on his face. Wes smiled,

_He was until he met me._ He answered. Grady contemplated that for a moment before smiling.

_Well, if he isn’t hoarding the ladies anymore then I like him._ He signed, his smile turning mischievous. _Although look at you, dating the hottest boy in the school._

_I thought you said you were the hottest boy in the school._ Wesley shot back, 

_Shut up, you’re so embarrassing._ Grady laughed and pushed Wes, who pushed him back playfully. They were quiet for some time, just looking at each other. _I’m serious, though, you guys are cute. If he makes you happy, you should keep seeing him._

_I was planning to._ Wes answered. Grady nodded,

_Okay. Just let me know if he breaks your heart, I’ll come over here and break his fingers, got it?_ He signed with a serious expression. Wes smiled at that,

_Got it._ He signed back. The boys were quiet for a moment before Wesley signed,

_Please don’t tell your family._

Wesley’s expression was worried, scared even, and Grady didn’t hesitate to answer,

_Of course. I promise._

_I didn’t want to lie to them but I didn’t want them to know._

_I get it. Don’t worry._ Grady signed, _Remember how you used to cover for me and C-A-S-S-I-E? This is me making it up to you. I’ll cover for you, don’t worry._

Wesley smiled, feeling his heart swell in his chest, and before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and enveloped Grady into another hug. The shorter teen hugged him back tightly, squeezing him before letting go.

_Thanks. You’re the best friend in the world._ Wes signed, 

_I know,_ Grady answered, _Now please put a shirt on._

Both teens laughed, the atmosphere light once again.

Grady let Aaron back in and explained that everything was alright and he wasn’t going to tell anybody about the relationship. He also made Aaron swear he wouldn’t tell anybody about the wings, and made sure to threaten him as aggressively as he could. To his credit, Aaron took it well, and even gave Grady a hug when they left, the short boy stiffening and blushing, giving Wes a death glare over Aaron's shoulder as the taller teen smiled, amused by their antics. 

Grady and Wes exited the building, the groceries distributed amongst their four hands. But as they made their way down the street, cracking jokes and pushing each other around, Wesley felt an immense weight lift from his shoulders, as if he was finally opening his wings for the world to see. Grady watched his friend, Wes smiling widely, looking happier than he’d seen him in months. In that moment, he felt something tighten in his chest as another small seed took root.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunshine dreaming, but now we're on the run.

Grady woke up early on a January Monday morning to the sound of his father knocking on his bedroom door. He stretched underneath the weight of Wes’ wing and shoved at the taller boy’s shoulder, effectively waking him up as he snapped his mouth closed, his pillow covered in drool as per usual. 

They took their time getting ready, about to go eat breakfast, when Grady heard Michaelle scream. He looked up at Wesley, who continued getting dressed calmly, and quickly got his attention.

_Someone screamed. Stay in the room._ He signed. Wes paused, looking concerned, but didn’t respond as Grady left the room carefully. The first thing that told him something was off was how quiet the apartment was. The only noise he could hear was the soft hum of jazz coming from his father’s radio. Otherwise, everything was still. 

“Hello Grady,” a deep unfamiliar voice startled him, coming from down the hall. “Why don’t you come and join us for breakfast?”

Grady slowly walked down the hallway, his eyes set on the doorway leading to the living room area, his heart pounding in his ears. The room came into view in sections, eventually revealing the dining room table. He first saw his mother, her jaw set tightly and her eyes burning into someone across from her. Next was Michaelle, her eyes wide and terrified, making her look like a small five year old instead of the confident fourteen year old she had become. On her left was his father, face pale and trembling hands placed on the table, his eyes looking up to meet Grady’s.

“Come on in now, son, no need to keep us waiting.” The voice rumbled through the apartment, deep yet calm. Grady took one more step, watching as a thick hand came into view, a single golden ring adorning grotesque fingers, followed by a large belly and an angular, impassive face. The man was bald, a cigarette hanging from thin lips, and his eyes were an icy blue. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Grady asked, his hands balling into fists. 

“Grisha,” His mother warned, her voice even yet commanding. He looked at her, but her eyes never left the man across from her. “ _Sadit'sya_.” 

Grady knew very little Russian, but he knew this phrase well enough to know his mother wasn’t playing around. “ _Sit down”_ , she had said, and he obeyed. He slowly entered the room and felt his heart stop when he realized there were two men standing behind the big guy, glocks at their hips and shades upon their sharp noses. He immediately thought of Wesley, probably sitting in their room, concerned that Grady hadn’t returned. He hoped that instead of coming out to look for him, perhaps he’d caught on that something was wrong and he was hiding under their beds, or even climbing out the window. Grady slowly approached the table and sat down on the remaining chair, which happened to be his usual foldable one. 

“Well, now that we have the boy here, I’d say it’s time for some introductions, don’t you think?” The big man offered, taking a sip from a coffee cup that was clearly intended for his mother. “I haven’t seen these runts since they were babies. Now look at ‘em, this one’s taller than you Faina!” He laughed, gesturing towards Grady with his large hand. Faina clenched her jaw, nostrils flaring before she spoke,

“Grisha, Masha, meet Bruno Gallo. Bruno, my kids, Grigory and Machal, but you knew that.” Faina hissed, “This is the bastard that chased us out of Jersey.” 

Grady’s eyes widened, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he looked over at the man, Bruno, who was giving Faina an exasperated look. 

“Why you gotta lead with that, huh? Coulda just said I was an old friend.” he asked,

“I don’t use the label ‘friend’ lightly,” Faina hissed between gritted teeth. “Now what the fuck do you want Bruno?” Had they been in a better situation, Grady would’ve openly smiled at how badass his mother was acting, but he kept silent, glaring at the large man.

“Faya…” Misha whispered,

“No, I want to know. I’m done with this. We left, Bruno, you said our people weren’t welcome and we packed our bags and got out before the war broke loose. I even did you a favor to prove our loyalty and you swore to me, you SWORE, I would never have to look at your nasty face ever again. Or the faces of anybody from your side of town.” She growled. Grady watched as his mother balled her fists, squeezing them rhythmically as she spoke. “So why the fuck are you here?”

“I’m here to warn you.” Bruno huffed, lifting his hand to wave one of the two guards towards him. The guard approached slowly and slid a plain manila folder across the table, Faina trapping the file underneath her fingers and opening it after locking eyes with Bruno momentarily. Grady made to lean over and look at the files but his mother slammed it closed only seconds after opening it. She buried her forehead into her right hand, leaning on the table, and whispered a short,

“Fuck,” 

“What is it?” Michaelle asked, her voice shaking, “What’s happening?” 

“There’s a new anti-mutant organization afoot,” Bruno explained, “Our intel tells us they’ve been sweeping through the south, raking through cities and killing any mutant they can find. They have trained dogs, big dobermans, sniffing out mutants in every nook and cranny. They just went through Houston, and Austin is next.” 

“But, that’s illegal. Mutant murder is illegal. They can’t get away with it at such a large scale!” Misha cried. Bruno gave him a surprised look before turning Faina, his lips turned in what could only be described as an unsettling smile.

“I’d forgotten he was such a soft soul.” He mumbled, “Misha, have you seen anything in the news about Houston?”

“I…” Misha began, pausing as he tried to recall the evening news, “No… I haven’t heard anything about Houston.” 

“It’s because they’re good. Whoever these new guys are, they’ve got connections, local government and such. They’re dangerous, and silent, and will get away with it. Give it a few months, you’ll start seeing news about mass graves found near the cities they raided. However, give it a few months, and all five of you will be in one of those graves.” he finished, staring down Faina with his icy blue eyes. Grady caught the number, feeling the blood drain from his face. Bruno noticed, chuckling darkly,

“I know you have another kid here. I’m assuming he’s a mutant, given your history, but regardless, he’s in danger just for living with you. I can provide you with fake IDs and tickets to travel up north, at least until this settles down. Could be a year, maybe two, but if you want to make sure your kids are alive this time next week, I would take the offer.” Bruno explained, his tone casual, as if he was talking about the weather. 

Faina was quiet, her hands squeezing rhythmically once again. Misha looked at his kids, and then his wife, but just as he was about to open his mouth, Faina spoke. 

“When are the tickets for?” She asked, “And how much can we take? Will there be a safe house?” 

Bruno nodded, “You can take one suitcase each, average sized, and one personal bag. You’ll be greeted by a woman named Elena. She’s got a scar above her left eyebrow, goes down to her ear. She’ll tell you the code.” he sighed, “You need to leave tonight. Make it to the San Antonio Amtrak train station by 1 am. Austin is too dangerous, they’re already in town. I know you don’t have a car so figure it out. The tickets will be on hold under the name 'Lopez'."

“What about a school? Their first day was today, they’re still on time to transfer.” Misha interrupted. Both Bruno and Faina looked over at him with incredulous looks, “Oh sure, you look at me like that, but I’m making sure all three of the kids graduate highschool.” He stated, pointing at both of them with far studier hands than before.

“I’m sure Elena can get you into a nice public school, just ask when you arrive.” Bruno huffed. 

“Wait, wait, what? We’re just leaving?” Grady interjected, catching everyone’s attention. “Did nobody bother to ask Michaelle and Wes and I what we thought about this? Why aren’t we fighting back against these guys? Mom, you and dad both still have your powers, and this guy has guns, you’re obviously big time if you’re in charge in Jersey, so why the fuck aren’t you chasing these assholes out of the city?” 

Bruno stared down at Grady, letting out a heavy puff of smoke before snickering. 

“Faina junior, huh?” He said, looking at Faina,

“You have no idea,” she answered, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Answer the damn question,” Grady demanded. This only made Bruno laugh even harder,

“Oh man, I love the kid. Alright little man, you wanna know why? Because, according to the government, we’re the bad guys. The guys coming in are so well-connected, we can’t touch them. We lay a finger on those normies and next thing you know we’ve got life sentences in the tightest penitentiary. Believe me when I tell you we wouldn’t be doing this unless we had any other option. Technically, I shouldn’t even be here.” 

“Then why are you?” Faina demanded, her eyes narrowing. Bruno sighed,

“Because, like you said, you did me a favor. And this is me, returning the favor to you. You were one of our best soldiers, the legendary Vied-” Faina’s fist crashed into the table, the booming sound resonating through the room as the lights in the apartment flickered. Both bodyguards had their guns in their hands, pointed at Grady’s mother in under a second. 

“Don’t call me that.” She hissed. Bruno looked taken aback, even a bit scared, but he raised his hand, both guards lowering their guns. 

“I’m sorry, shouldn’t’ve done that.” Bruno conceded. Faina sighed, squeezing her eyes tightly before looking up.

“No, I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” She answered, “I appreciate what you’re doing for us, Bruno, you just drag up too many bad memories. We’ll be at the station tonight. I think you should be leaving.” 

Bruno nodded, tipping back the mug of coffee to finish it up, and gently placed it back on the table. He stubbed out his cigarette against his open palm, the scorching bud leaving no trace behind, pocketed the remainder of the cigarette and stood up, nodding towards Faina and then Misha.

“It was good to see you all again. Give my regards to the third kid,” he answered, gesturing for the guards to walk ahead of him as he said his goodbyes. “Must be sitting in his room shitting himself with all the racket earli-”

A loud crack resonated through the room as the first guard who stepped into the hallway got decked across the face. Just as the second one was pulling his gun out, a gust of wind hurdled through the apartment, launching him against the wall and causing him to drop his gun.

“What the-” Bruno began, but before he could finish his sentence, another gust of wind shook the apartment and Bruno found his ass on the ground as he tumbled backwards, crashing into the floor. It took him a moment to gather his bearings, but when he did, he gasped. 

Standing before him, shielding the Berzinski family, stood a whole six feet of muscles and eleven feet of wings. Wesley glared down at Bruno, his wings giving a warning flap, pushing the air around the apartment once again. 

“Bruno, meet my third kid.” Faina said, a smile apparent in her voice as Grady ducked beneath one of the wings and signed at Wesley, explaining the situation. “This is Wesley. Wesley, meet Bruno.” Bruno couldn’t take his eyes off the massive white speckled wings, now folding up neatly as Grady finished explaining. 

Misha walked over and helped Bruno stand up, who looked over at his bodyguards, both of them equally flabbergasted by the scene. 

“Thank ya kindly,” he said to Misha, “Big kid you got there… Alright boys, let’s pack it up before another Berzinski kid shows up. Faina, Misha, kids,” he acknowledged each of them with a nod of his head. The three were soon out of the apartment, leaving the family to process the news. 

_Sorry,_ Wesley signed, looking at all of them with an apologetic grimace. 

_What do you mean sorry? That was amazing!! Please do that again!_ Grady signed, punching Wes in the arm and then holding his shoulders to shake him in excitement. 

“Grady,” Faina said, causing her son to look up, Wesley following his gaze.

_We have a terrible situation. We need to move fast. Grady can explain more in-depth but we need to leave the city. Tonight. Everyone, start packing now. I’m going to try and find a car._

_We don’t know anybody with a car._ Michaelle interjected, _at least not anybody who knows our situation._

_Then I’ll rent a car._ Faina signed.

_No, they’ll trace us._ Misha replied. 

_I know someone with a car._ Wesley signed, catching everyone’s attention. He looked around and then down at his hands, wringing them together. 

“Hey,” Grady said, touching Wesley’s arm so he would look up at him. _It’s okay,_ he signed, _we all love you no matter what. You can tell them._

“Who is he talking about?” Michaelle asked Grady, just as Wesley looked up and faced the family.

_My boyfriend,_ he signed, _my boyfriend has a car._

**…**

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me he had a boyfriend, I know you guys are best friends but we’re good friends, you know? He totally could have told me.” Michaelle ranted, her voice upset. Grady knew she was letting out her frustrations through talking to him. Unlike Grady, Michaelle had plenty of friends that she was going to miss and she didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to. After getting used to her hearing aids, she fit in perfectly at school. The complete opposite of her brother. The family was sitting around their apartment, surrounded by the belongings they managed to pack. Wesley had left about half an hour ago to go find Aaron and ask for a huge favor. Grady was worried, if they couldn’t use that car they probably weren’t going to make it to the train station in San Antonio on time, but he tried not to think about that.

“Wesley didn’t even tell _me_ he had a boyfriend, so stop acting like you’re special.” Grady countered, looking over at his sister. She gaped at him,

“What? Why? You guys literally do everything together.” 

“Because I’m a shitty friend that used to call corny things ‘gay’ and call him weird for not liking hot girls from school.” He mumbled. Michaelle stared at him with wide eyes before rolling her eyes,

“I don’t understand how he puts up with you.” She answered, shaking her head.

“You and me both,” he sighed. Michaelle huffed a laugh, leaning back to rest her head on the back of the couch. Grady did so as well, both looking up at the ugly pop-corn ceiling. Their apartment was quaint and small, but they’d be lying if they said they weren’t going to miss the memories they’d made there. 

“What’s he like?” Michaelle asked, looking over at Grady. Grady looked back at her and for a moment was struck with how much she looked like their father. Her eyes were smaller than Grady’s, although the same deep color, and they held far more kindness than his. As much as he always wished she stood up for herself more, part of him hoped she never changed. It wasn’t probable, her being a hard-of-hearing girl that might develop mutations would probably result in a lot of unpleasant experiences, but he hoped that deep down she would still be the Michaelle that cried when she saw abandoned dogs in the street and would rescue bees off the cold Austin sidewalks during the winter. 

“He’s… really hot actually. It’s kind of unfair.” Grady admitted. 

“How hot, though,” 

“You’ll see him soon,”

“He’s here,” Misha said from his spot in the window. The family quickly gathered their things and began their trek down the stairs towards the side door of the building that led to a small alleyway. Standing next to the car were Wesley and Aaron, holding hands. Both of them let go and began helping the family stuff the back of the small car, but Michaelle stood frozen in place, staring at Aaron with a stunned expression. She whipped her head back and glared at Grady,

“Aaron?! He’s dating Aaron!?” She hissed, 

“Shut _up_!” Grady growled, pushing her out of the way and carrying his bags to the back.

“Aaron, right?” Misha asked, catching Aaron’s attention after they packed everything. 

“Yes sir, Aaron Kane, pleasure to meet you.” Aaron flashed Misha his best smile and shook his hand firmly.

Faina, who had observed Aaron from a distance with calculating eyes, gave the teen a once-over before turning to Wes and signing,

_Wherever did you find such a handsome boy?_ Followed by a wink, making Wes smile and blush. 

“Misha, pleasure to meet you as well. This is Faina, and I believe you know Michaelle and Grady. Thank you so much for the help, you have no idea how much it means to us.” Misha said, his expression vulnerable and open. Aaron’s expression turned serious,

“I’m honored to help. Wesley explained everything to me. This isn’t your fault and it’s completely unfair, but safety comes first. I’ll help in any way I can.” Aaron answered, his tone somber. 

“I see, thank you so much,” Misha stated once again,

“Yes, thank you Aaron,” Faina added. Aaron smiled reassuringly at them, then looked over at Wesley, who was staring back at him with open adoration. Grady rolled his eyes and looked away while Michaelle smiled brightly, her gaze traveling back and forth between the two. 

“We should get going,” Faina interrupted the moment, a small smile upon her face. Aaron cleared his throat,

“Yeah, yes, let’s get going.” 

Michaelle was well past the age to sit on someone’s lap, but given the size of the car and the fact that they were trying to fit six people in a five-seat vehicle, she found herself sitting in between her mother’s spread legs, which in turn took leg-space away from Grady who was forced to sit in the middle seat. Grady was feeling particularly miserable, sandwiched between his family members and sitting in the middle of the car. The ride was mostly quiet, although about twenty minutes in, once they were on the highway, Wes, who was sitting in the passenger seat, silently reached over and placed his hand on Aaron’s, which was resting on the stick shift. Aaron looked over briefly, giving Wesley a comforting smile, before turning his hand over and interlacing their fingers together. 

Grady felt multiple feelings at once as he stared down at their joined hands. Part of him felt jealous, he realized. He’d never had a stable girlfriend, or even someone who had wanted to make out with him more than a handful of times. He knew nobody had ever held him tenderly, at least not romantically. Not the way Aaron and Wesley were holding each other. It hurt, in a way, to see them so happy, so in love. The other part of him, he realized, felt sad. Wesley had been happy with Aaron, and honestly, there was no way they could keep dating after this. It was unsure if Wesley would ever be able to come back down to Austin, and even if he did, they had no idea when. He imagined how Wesley must be feeling at the moment and felt his stomach twist into knots. It’s not fair, he thought, this isn’t fair at all.

Grady let his head fall against his father’s shoulder, whose hand came up to comb through his hair. He fell asleep staring at the neon lights reflected over the couple’s interlaced hands, his heart feeling heavier with every minute they drove away from Austin.

**…**

Grady woke up to the feeling of the car stopping, a brief glance informing him that they had arrived. The family quickly climbed out, unloaded their luggage, and thanked Aaron once again, even giving him hugs and wishing him the best. Wesley looked unsure about following the family inside, but Misha walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

_Take your time, the train leaves in 40 minutes. We’ll meet you inside._ He signed, a sad smile on his face. Wes nodded, handing Misha his bigger bag and watching as the family entered the old pink building, heading towards the ticketing office. Grady and Michaelle stood back with the family’s luggage as their parents talked to the ticketing attendant. It took all the self-control Grady had not to turn around and look at Wesley and Aaron outside the building.

“This is so sad,” Michaelle whispered. Grady looked down at her and realized she was shamelessly looking over at the couple, her expression crestfallen. Grady couldn’t resist, he turned around slightly, and watched as Aaron and Wesley hugged, their arms clutching each other tightly, and tears flowing freely down Aaron’s face. 

“Jesus…” Grady mumbled, watching as they pulled back, Aaron placing his hands on the sides of Wes’ face and touching their foreheads together. He pulled back and said something, to which Wesley nodded, and then he said something again. Wesley looked away, expression torn, and then surged forward and kissed Aaron.

“Oh wow,” Michaelle mumbled. Grady made a pained noise as he looked away, feeling like a terrible person for catching a glimpse of such an intimate moment. 

“Are they still sucking face?” Grady groaned. Michaelle huffed out a laugh,

“Yeah… okay, now they stopped.” she quipped. Grady looked up again and watched as Wesley wrote something in his small notebook. The poor worn-out thing only had a few blank pages left, all the previous ones filled with memories and thoughts of the past year. He finished and gave it to Aaron, who read it, blinked away tears, and nodded. Wesley cradled his face once more and gave him a soft, tender kiss, and before he could change his mind, turned away and walked into the station.

Both siblings jumped and turned away, pretending they hadn’t watched the whole thing. Wesley was soon at their sides, eyes puffy and shoulders slouched. Grady glanced at him. Wes' face was blank, eyes staring down at his old worn tennis shoes. His hands were shoved in his jeans' pockets and his dark green sweater had Aaron’s tears smudged all over the left shoulder. He looked like a wreck. Grady considered cracking a joke to lighten the mood. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Aaron’s car pulling out of the drop-off area and driving into the dark night.

No, right now wasn’t the time for jokes. He put a hand on Wesley’s elbow, catching his attention. 

_I’m really sorry,_ he signed, _I know that was hard. Thanks for asking him for the ride._

Wesley nodded, staring at Grady for a long moment, before his face crumpled, tears pouring out of his eyes, and he gave a sharp inhale. 

“Oh no, oh fuck,” Grady mumbled, reaching up to wrap his arms round Wes’ shaking shoulders. Two long arms pulled him close and Grady swore he could feel Wes’ wings straining against the harness, trying their best to surround them in a safe haven of speckled feathers. He suddenly felt enveloped by a pair of smaller arms, Michaelle burying her face in the space between them, and one of Wes’ arms reached out to pull her into the hug. Misha and Faina found them in that same position, a few minutes later, and wrapped their arms around the three kids. 

Half an hour later, the family was sitting in the economy section of an Amtrak train headed up to Chicago. Faina sat separately from the family, announcing that she was going to take first watch and keep a lookout for any shady individuals. Misha sat next to Michaelle, his head on a small pillow leaning on the window and her smaller head on his shoulder, both of them falling asleep as soon as they settled down.

Wes took a window seat, his forehead leaning against the glass and his green eyes glossed over, watching the dry Texas scenery fly by. Grady sat next to him, fingers tapping against the armrests, unsure whether he should let Wes be or try to take his mind off things with a conversation. He considered what he could say, imagining the topics he could cover, the jokes he could crack, anything that would take that look off Wes’ face, but before he could gather the courage, the train’s speakers crackled to life and announced they would be turning off the lights for the night. They were plunged into darkness and Grady stiffened when he felt Wes’ hand clutch his. Green eyes met black, and Grady used his free hand to sign a quick.

_It’s okay._

Wes relaxed, leaning back into the seat. Wes’ large, warm hand began to slip out of his, and in a moment of simultaneous panic and courage, Grady turned his and interlaced their fingers. Wes’ paused, looking down at their hands in the dark, and then looking up into Grady’s eyes. Later on, Grady would blame the darkness and lack of sleep for the way in which he squeezed Wes’ hand, looked into those deep green eyes, and once again signed,

_It’s okay._

Wes’ eyes softened, a sigh escaping his lips as he melted into the seat once again. Grady felt long fingers curl around his hand and squeeze, Wes’ thumb tracing up and down Grady’s own. Grady felt a shiver run up his spine, his eyes shooting down to their joined hands and then back up into Wes’ eyes. He gulped, his throat tightening at the tenderness staring back in those green eyes. He held his gaze for a few seconds before closing his eyes. He couldn’t handle looking at Wes like that, it made him feel naked, exposed, and vulnerable in ways that he wasn’t prepared to address, especially not now. The moment his eyes closed, he felt the fatigue pulling at the corners of his consciousness and within a few minutes, he was asleep, his head sliding onto Wes’ shoulder. Wes looked down at Grady for a moment before burying his nose into dark curls and breathing, grounding himself in the familiar warmth and smell that had become a safe haven to him over the years. He fell asleep shortly thereafter, lulled by the rhythmic pace of the train and the warmth of Grady’s hand, dreaming of clear skies and a life far away from Austin, Texas.

**…**

They made it to Chicago Wednesday morning at 8 am, almost 30 hours after departing San Antonio. The train trip had been uneventful, the three teens playing cards, reading, and chatting amongst themselves while the adults discussed how they were planning to move forward. Wesley made no move to hold Grady’s hand after the first night, and that worked well for Grady, who had decided he was going to shove the whole experience into a metaphorical suitcase and haul it out the window of the train, to be forgotten with the rest of their life in Texas. 

He still had no idea why he had done it. It would have been easier to let Wes’ hand go, to simply reassure him with a pat on the arm, another hug even, but the way he held his gaze and squeezed his hand was now etched into the back of eyelids, raw with emotion. They didn’t talk about it, and hopefully, Grady thought, they’d never have to. 

“Is this where we stop?” Michaelle asked, her eyes scanning the city sky-line, traced against silver winter clouds. “Are we staying in Chicago?”

“No baby, we’re going to stay here for one night. Bruno wanted us to check in with a contact downtown before moving forward.” Faina explained, brushing through Michaelle’s dark strands with cold fingers.

“We need to get ourselves better clothes,” Misha mentioned, reaching down and taking Faina’s other hand in both of his, rubbing them together to keep them warm. The car’s heating system was severely lacking for a cold January morning in Chicago. They had taken a specific car Bruno had indicated they flag down, a mini-van with an old, pale and bald driver with skittish eyes and thin pursed lips, yellowed teeth peeking through every time he sneered at the other drivers on the road.

“I understand our contact will take care of that for us,” Faina answered. Both parents nodded at each other, and the car settled into silence. After a few minutes, Misha turned his head slightly, peeking at the last row of seats in the back of the car. Grady had scootched all the way down, pressing against the window and staring out at the streets in a similar manner to his sister. Wes was seated on the other side, staring out his window as well, his eyes tired and hands interlaced between his knees. 

“Grisha, you’re so quiet I almost forgot you were back there.” Misha quipped, a small smile on his face. Grady looked up, his glare softened by the lack of energy evident in his slumped shoulders and messy curls. 

“I’m just tired,” he mumbled, looking back out onto the street. Misha smiled and then turned in his seat, reaching out to wave and get Wes’ attention.

_Are you doing alright? You look ready to sleep for a long time._ Misha signed, and Wes rewarded his efforts with a small smile, 

_I’m alright. I can’t wait to sleep on an actual bed._ He signed back. _How are you? And F-A-I-N-A?_

_We’ll live, nothing we haven’t done before._ Misha signed. Wes gave a single nod, furrowing his brow as he contemplated Misha’s signs. 

_Is this similar to when you left J-E-R-S-E-Y?_ Wes asked. Misha tipped his head side to side before answering,

_We were a lot more scared back then. The kids were small, one could barely walk, so it’s helpful that they’re teenagers now._ He explained. He paused, and then smiled before signing, _and we have you now as well. That makes us feel a lot better._

_Me?_

_Yes! You. First, there’s safety in numbers, second, you’re a wonderful kid, you make everyone feel safe and calm._ He signed, a sincere look in his eyes. Wes smiled,

_Thank you. I’m really glad I came with you guys. I don’t want to think about what could have happened if those guys made it to town and I was still in the orphanage._ Wes answered. Misha’s expression darkened, nodding before reaching his hand out. Wes took it, feeling Misha squeeze his hand before squeezing back. They smiled at one another before letting go, Misha facing forward again as Wes looked down at his hands. He didn’t notice Grady staring at him out of the corner of his eye, his hands balled into fists. 

**…**

The ride dropped them off in front of a quaint grocery store, after which they hauled their luggage inside, checking to make sure nobody was in the store before Faina slowly approached the check out desk.

“Hello?” She called, “We’re here… we’re here on behalf of Bruno.” A loud crash echoed in the backroom of the store and suddenly the door was swung open with such force it cracked a hole in the wall behind it, directly onto a patch of dry wall that had clearly been replaced before. A tall woman with dark mahogany skin and granny braids stared Faina down, her hands balled into fists. Faina gasped,

“You bitch!” She yelled, and Misha winced,

“Faina, please…” he pleaded,

“Don’t call me a bitch, _puta_ , there’s kids here!” the woman yelled back. They stared at one another for a few more seconds, tension palpable in the air, before they were both cracking up. 

“You bastard, I knew I couldn’t get rid of you!” Faina yelled, crossing the space between them to hug the taller woman, who tugged her into a warm embrace.

“You could never get rid of me _chaparrita_ , ask Ricky, she’s tried to before.” The woman laughed. They eventually let go of each other, the woman turning her attention to Misha who was smiling at the pair,

“Mikhail, it’s been a while.” She said, reaching over to give him a hug,

“It’s great to see you Carolina,” he answered, hugging her back.

“I want a hug from the tall lady!” Michaelle yelled from where the three kids stood, amused at the display of affection,

“I don't.” Grady quipped. Carolina, who seemed to only then notice them, gasped,

“That is not baby Grisha! _No puede ser_!” She laughed, “And little Masha! Aw come here both of you!” She extended her arms and enveloped both kids in a huge bear hug,

“I’m going to be honest here, I don’t know who you are.” Michaelle mumbled, her voice muffled in the lady’s shoulder. Carolina laughed, pulling back to look down at both kids.

“I’m your mom’s best friend, Carolina.”

“You don’t know if you still have that title!” Fained interjected. Carolina huffed,

“Nobody can replace me, don’t even start.” She countered, when suddenly her eyes landed on a sheepish looking Wesley standing off to the side, surrounded by the family’s belongings. Carolina paused, letting both kids go before walking over to the tall boy,

“And who’s this?” She asked out loud, her eyes looking over Wes’ thin frame, as if trying to understand any visual similarity between the Berzinskis and Wes. Faina appeared behind Wes, placing her arms on either of his shoulders,

“This is Wesley, he’s a foster kid from Austin. We took him in a few years ago.” Faina explained, meeting Carolina’s gaze evenly, “He’s like us, Carolina.”

“He’s also deaf,” Michaelle added. Carolina gave Wesley a hard look before smiling,

“Well, any friend of the Berzinskis is a friend of mine, welcome Wesley.” Carolina exclaimed. Wesley smiled, and sheepishly gave the sign for _thank you_. Carolina laughed,

“Oh he’s adorable, I love him,” Carolina laughed, pulling Wes into a single armed hug and steered him towards the backroom, “come here, let’s get you all some food.”

Carolina, Faina explained, was a dear friend from her youth in Jersey. Carolina and her girlfriend, Ricky, had also been run out during the turf war, and had relocated in Chicago, opening a small Vietnamese/Colombian market. They hadn’t been able to keep away from the ‘cause’, as they’d called it, and often worked with Bruno to keep a safe haven for mutants and minorities coming through the city. She served them all a hefty Colombian dinner in a small white kitchen, the six of them crowding a small table, when a short woman with warm brown skin and a dark pixie cut entered the house, complaining about the weather, and then paused, staring from the entrance, almond eyes wide in surprise.

“Nobody told me we had guests!?” She exclaimed, hugging Misha and Faina close, “And nobody told me they would be friends!” 

“Wanted to surprise you, _flaca_.” Carolina explained from the table, squished between Michaelle and Wes. 

“These are the best surprises!” Ricky laughed, turning in circles with a Berzinski in each arm. 

“It’s so good to see you Ricky,” Misha said, smiling widely. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked, pulling away and looking them up and down. “You’re so old! And you brought your kids!” 

“Stop that, you’re just as old.” Faina shot back, pushing her playfully. Ricky laughed, smiling brightly. She paused abruptly, staring at them seriously,

“Are you here to join the cause?” 

A tense silence filled the room, Misha staring down at his feet as Faina stared back at Ricky, an impassive look on her face.

“No, we aren’t.” Faina answered with finality. Ricky looked taken aback, looking over at her girlfriend who was currently staring intently at the coffee nestled between her hands. 

“But, you were our best team!” Ricky answered, hope in her voice. Faina gently took hold of Ricky’s arm around her shoulder and dropped it away.

“We were, not anymore. We have different priorities now.” She stated, her tone sharp. 

“I’m sorry Ricky, we’re just passing by.” Misha added, giving her arm around him a small squeeze. Ricky nodded, looking slightly embarrassed and disappointed, before moving forward to introduce herself to the kids. 

They all continued to converse, although any conversation regarding the cause was quickly either shot down or avoided altogether with a quick change of topic. Ricky seemed significantly more bothered by it than Carolina, who calmly continued the conversation. At some point, Ricky changed her focus from the Berzinski parents to the kids.

“So you two are sixteen, and you’re fourteen,” Ricky recalled, pointed at the boys and then Michaelle respectively. 

“Yes! Although we aren’t really sure how old Wesley is other than he was a few months old when he arrived at the orphanage.” Michaelle answered, Ricky listening to every word with rapt attention. 

“Oh wow, you’re already teenagers! What grades?” 

“I’m in eighth, they’re in tenth.” Michaelle answered again. Wes was trying to keep up with reading lips to understand the conversation, and was proud that he was doing quite well. Grady on the other hand rolled his eyes when Michaelle answered, going back to slowly stirring his cold milk with coffee he probably wasn’t going to finish. 

“Wouldn’t happen to have any girlfriends or boyfriends would you?” Ricky fake-whispered. A sudden tension filled the room, Michaelle giving a toothy grimace, eyes shooting over to Wes, who’s face had gone slack.

“Wes had a boyfriend over in Austin, but we had to leave him to come here.” Michaelle explained, turning to face Wesley as she spoke. Ricky’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open and looking at Wesley with pity written across her face,

“Oh, I’m so sorry Wesley.” She said, reaching forward to place both of her hands on his. Wesley smiled weakly, signing a quick _It’s okay._

“He was really hot, and super funny and sociable and cute and got all the best grades.” Michaelle listed, making Wesley smile. “Also he was crazy about Wesley, you could just tell.”

Wesley suddenly turned a deep crimson, Ricky letting out a loud cackle and shaking Wesley’s hand between her own. Grady, in contrast, slid a little lower into his seat. Carolina, who had been having a separate conversation with the parents, glanced over, brows slightly furrowed as she assessed Grady, before she returned her attention to Faina and Misha.

“Wesley! You Don Juan you!” Ricky exclaimed, “Of course you snatched up the hottest guy in the city, you’re a handsome boy yourself! Tall too.” She teased, making Wes blush even further, eventually pulling his hand away and playfully hiding his face in the crook of his arm. Ricky and Michaelle laughed, Wes smiling as he looked up at them. After the laughter died out Ricky turned her attention back at Michaelle,

“And you sweetie? Any boys or girls in your life?” She asked. Michaelle shook her head,

“No… There was a nice boy who was sending me cute letters at school but I didn’t really like him that much.” Michaelle explained, flipping her black curls back as she spoke. Ricky nodded, looking impressed, before looking over at Grady.

“Don’t,” he snapped, an annoyed expression etched across his features. Ricky laughed before turning towards the other adults,

“He really is exactly like you,” she told Faina, who rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t do anything, he was born like that.” Faina answered, waving Ricky off. 

“Oh! Tell us about how mom and dad met!” Michaelle asked, prompting matching groans from Faina and Grady, and laughter from Misha. 

“That’s a great story sweetie,” Ricky began, “Your dad and I were best friends back in high school, back when we both got our mutations we helped each other hide until we graduated. We then joined the local mutant-revolution group, fighting for mutants’ rights, and guess who was the leader of the group at the time…” 

Faina’s expression had hardened as Ricky explained, something akin to distress stretched taut across her features. Michaelle and Grady, however, were now on the edges of their seats.

“Mom was the head of the mutant-revolution group?” Grady asked. Ricky nodded,

“The organizer and leader, she was the strongest mutant. Misha was head over heels for her after the first meeting.” 

“It’s true,” Misha answered, looking at his wife dreamily. Faina gave him an annoyed side look, but her expression softened, her lips quirking slightly upwards. 

“So did dad ever get the courage to ask her out?” Michaelle asked, just as Grady leaned forward and demanded,

“When did they start fighting together?” Ricky smiled,

“Well, your father spent two months trying to get her attention while still working for the cause, but eventually your mother got tired of it and asked him out. They started working together soon thereafter, nobody stood a chance against them.” Ricky’s voice swelled with pride as she spoke. While Michaelle was giggling at the prospect of her mother asking her father out, Grady narrowed his eyes at his father. 

“But dad only controls how people feel, like to calm them down.” Grady asked. Ricky gave him a pointed look,

“You think controlling how people feel isn’t a strong mutation?” She asked, a challenging tone in her voice.

“Now, now, we don’t have to go into the details…” Misha began,

“Imagine someone could make you feel the most afraid you’ve ever felt.” Ricky interjected. Misha paled, and Faina looked over at Ricky, glaring daggers. Grady, however, felt his blood run cold. 

“Afraid?” He asked. 

“Alright that’s enough,” Faina stated, her voice booming in the small space. Ricky glanced at her, a challenge clear in her eyes,

“You haven’t even told your kids about what happened have you?”

“And I won’t!” Faina yelled, “And if you don’t stop meddling in my family’s business then we’ll pack up and leave, I’m not here to have my past shoved in my face when I’ve worked so hard to leave it behind!” 

The lights flickered once more, and for a second, Grady could have sworn his mother’s eyes had glowed.

The moment was over as quickly as it began, however, accompanied by tense silence that settled upon everyone present.

“I’m sorry…” Ricky began, sounding anything but sorry, “I won’t bring it up again.” 

Carolina simply watched from her seat, quieter than she had been all night, her eyes intently focused on Faina. 

Not long after the conversation ended, Ricky began picking up their plates and cleaning up, excusing herself. Carolina then led the family to two guest bedrooms down a small hallway, with two queen beds each, with an additional twin bed in one. 

“It’ll be a tight fit, but let me know if you need anything.” Carolina had said, giving them warm hugs before retiring to her room with Ricky. The tension among the family was palpable, but it was quickly broken.

“Me and Wes are sharing, goodnight.” Grady announced, pulling his luggage and Wes into the smaller bedroom with the single queen bed, and shutting the door. Wes seemed taken aback, looking down at Grady's hand, still clutching his arm, when Grady looked up at him.

_Did you see that?_ He signed, letting go of Wes’ arm. Wesley immediately missed the warmth of his hand, but instead focused on answering.

_See what?_

_My parents. They used to be the leaders of the mutant rebellion, in J-E-R-S-E-Y._ He signed, looking distraught. _They used to fight for the rights of mutants!_

_I did see that. But they didn’t seem like they wanted to talk about it._

_No shit. And I don’t understand why. I’m so pissed._ Grady signed angrily. Wesley paused, staring at Grady with concern,

_Why are you mad? Are you upset they used to do that?_

_No. I’m upset they stopped. I’m upset they aren’t still fighting. They used to be the best, that’s what R-I-C-K-Y said, then why did they leave?_ Grady advanced towards Wes, forcing him to step back, _Why won’t they keep fighting? All they’ve done is run away, and now we have to run away too! It’s never going to stop, these guys will keep chasing us all over the place and we should be fighting back!_ Wes’ hands shot out and caught Grady’s wrists, a serious look on his face. Grady stared back, his glare increasing tenfold as he ripped his arms out of Wes’ grip.

_You don’t know what you’re talking about._ Wes signed. 

_They chased us out of our home!_

_You don’t know what your parents went through._

_Because they won’t tell me!_

_If they aren’t telling us it’s because they don’t want us to know, because they don’t think we’re ready for it._

_Fuck that, I’m ready for anything, I’m ready to take those bastards down!_

_With what mutations!?_ Grady froze, looking like he’d just been slapped across the face. Wesley could feel his heart in his ears, afraid of the conversation he’d never wanted to have with Grady, but he pushed through, fueled by the anger and concern he’d been packing for months, even years. _You haven’t developed any mutations, your sister hasn’t either. Most people begin to show signs at an early age, 13 at the latest. How old are you? Do you know if your mutations will ever show? Are you even sure you’re a mutant?_

Grady took a step back, followed by another and another until his back hit the wall, staring at Wes with wide and startled eyes. 

_Both of my parents are mutants._ He signed back, his hands shaking slightly. _Powerful ones, too._

_Normal parents have mutant kids, mutant parents have normal kids sometimes too._ Wesley signed carefully. Grady looked down at his feet, embarrassment and anger written clearly across his face, making Wes’ heart clench. He reached out, feeling his hand sting when Grady pushed it away angrily. He started signing again,

_I’m not saying it’s not going to happen. I know it’s possible for it to happen later. I just think you should trust your parents more. Your mom is the toughest person I know, and she was super powerful, whatever chased them out of J-E-R-S-E-Y, it must have been something she couldn’t handle._ Wes tried to explain, Grady’s eyes following his hands movements, his expression becoming slightly more understanding and less angry. _I want to fight back. But we can’t do it now. We’re weak, and if your mom and dad couldn’t take them down, then we can’t for sure._

Grady crossed his arms, his eyes drilling into Wes’ own, before he huffed, looking away.

_I know you’re right,_ he answered, looking back at him with angry eyes, _but I can’t take this anymore._

Wesley felt his heart clench, reaching out once more and feeling relief wash over his body when Grady let him touch his arm gently.

_One day, when your mutations show up, we’ll take them down together._ Wes signed. Grady looked up at him, doubt flashing across his face before a glimmer of hope shone in his eyes. 

_You promise?_ Grady asked. Wes nodded, 

_I promise._

**…**

Grady couldn’t sleep. He had been nervous about sharing a bed with Wesley before he realized it was worse if he made a big deal out of it. They’d always shared a bed, this shouldn’t be any different. 

Except it was. 

Grady usually passed out as soon as his head touched the pillow, but today, he lay awake, feeling the weight of Wes’ wing across his chest, rising and lowering with every breath. The room was dark, a tiny window providing dim streetlight and the walls painted a dull green color. Grady was currently staring up at the white popcorn ceiling, his body shivering slightly at the cold January air. Carolina and Ricky didn’t have great heating, he came to realize, and even Wes’ wing wasn’t providing enough heat to keep his skin from breaking out into goosebumps. He sighed, pulling the covers tighter around his shoulders and pulling his legs up to try and keep what little body heat he could by curling up. 

An evil idea slipped into his mind, his toes wiggling as nine year old Grady started to channel through him, and very slowly he pushed his leg out, seeking out the hot furnace that was Wesley’s thighs. He found soft skin and pressed his toes in, the taller boy jolting awake and pulling away with a hiss. Grady laughed, kicking both of his feet out to chase the warmth as Wesley tried to gather his bearings and pull away from the cold toes. Grady gasped when a long wing came down and started whacking him softly over his face, filling his mouth with feathers. He cursed lightly, still smiling and trying to get his feet onto warm skin, when he dug his hands into the wing and pulled.

A loud, obscene moan filled the room, making Grady release his grip in panic, a loud thud following as Wesley promptly fell off the bed in a heap of wings and limbs. 

“What the fuck,” Grady whispered to himself, sitting up and crawling to the other side of the bed where Wesley was currently lying face down on the floor, one leg still wrapped in the covers and dangling off the side of the bed. Even the dark couldn’t hide the bright red that crept up Wes’ shoulders, peeking out from beneath his worn pajama shirt. The taller boy had his face buried into the crook of his right arm, his other arm bracing him against the floor. 

“Wes,” Grady hissed, reaching forward slowly to place his hand on Wes’ shoulder. In the dark, Wes’ auburn hair was almost dark brown, and for a moment Grady felt the urge to run his hand through the short curls, but before he could muster the courage, Wes looked up at him, eyes shining and filled with panic.

_I’m sorry_ , he signed, _I’m sorry, I’m sorry._

_It’s okay!_ Grady signed back, _It’s okay, it’s okay!_

_I didn’t mean to._ Wesley pushed himself onto his knees, interrupting his signing as he tried to get upright with his massive wings.

“Wes,” Grady hissed, making sure Wesley was looking at his lips when he spoke. “It’s okay. I understand.” He spoke and signed simultaneously, watching as Wesley’s expression relaxed minutely. 

_You do?_

_A-A-R-O-N used to touch your wings when you made out, right?_

The blush returned tenfold, and Wesley looked off to the side, but after a moment he nodded. Grady sighed, glad he hadn’t misunderstood the situation, and waved at Wesley to get his attention.

_It’s okay, I’m sorry I did that._

_Don’t worry about it, we were just playing around._ Wes answered, the flush slowly receding from his cheeks. Grady nodded, pulling a knee up and settling his chin upon it, his hands rubbing at his toes to warm them up. In that moment, Wes was suddenly reminded of how handsome Grady was. He’d heard him complain up and down the apartment about his giant cheeks, which he inherited from his father, and kept insisting they would disappear one day along with the rest of his baby fat. The baby fat did disappear eventually, leaving a wiry and sturdy body in its wake, but the cheeks didn't look like they were leaving any time soon. And Wes loved them. He loved them just like he loved the big black curls on Grady's head and how soft they felt under his own cheeks when they hugged, smelling of his citrus shampoo. The way he loved the dark peach fuzz on Grady's temples, the soft skin of his neck, the fullness of his lips, the beauty marks sprinkled across his narrow shoulders, the lean strength of his arms, the swiftness of his hands and… in particular, he loved Grady's eyes. Their intensity and depth, the way they would pin him down with a single glance, like he was looking into his soul, bare and raw. Wesley looked down at his hands, laid upon his thighs, and felt some of the previous embarrassment return. 

He knew he wasn't over Grady, but swooning over his best friend days after breaking up with his previous boyfriend felt a little disrespectful towards all parties involved. He tried to push his thoughts away when Grady signed,

_Can I ask you something?_

_Of course._ Wes answered immediately, internally cringing at how quickly he agreed. Grady chuckled at his immediate response, making Wes’ heart melt. God, he was in too deep. 

_You and A-A-R-O-N,_ he began, the words making Wesley’s stomach drop slightly, _did you guys… did you ever… did you love each other?_

Grady went back to rubbing his feet, looking slightly embarrassed. Wesley felt a familiar hollow settle in his chest at the thought of Aaron, briefly thinking of his bright smile and sweet kisses, but he knew the answer to Grady's question. He’d known it for a long time. 

_No,_ he answered, _I didn't love him like that. He was a good boyfriend, and it felt good to be with him, but I don't think it was meant to be._

Grady stopped rubbing his feet, his expression unreadable. 

_But you guys were together for a long time._

_I know._

_And you guys made out all the time._

_Yeah._ The blush returned, albeit weaker, a mere dust of pink on his cheekbones. 

_And you didn't love him? Didn’t he love you?_

Wes didn’t answer, his wings curling down towards his body. 

_I told him I loved him when we left._

Grady’s eyebrows shot up, 

_You just said you didn’t love him!_

_I know what I said! But he was so sad, and he had just driven us all the way to San Antonio, risking his own safety, and he said it first and I couldn’t leave him hanging._ Wes signed, his shoulders slumping,

_You were still lying._ Grady countered, looking slightly upset,

_I know._ He answered, _But I don’t regret it. I know I’m never going to see him again, and even if I do, it’s over. I’m a mutant and he’s a handsome B-I-S-E-X-U-A-L guy with his whole life ahead of him. It could never work out._

Grady scrunched his face, an expression he usually made when he felt Wes was being ridiculous. 

_But if you didn’t love him then it wasn’t going to work anyway. And what are you talking about? Mutants marry normal people all the time._

Wesley huffed, crossing his arms as his feathers puffing out. Grady found it endearing when they did that.

_You’re right. I knew it wasn’t going to work out deep down. I guess I always thought he would leave for college and we would be done. I didn’t think it was going to happen so soon though. I guess I just wanted to make him happy one more time._

Grady nodded, not truly agreeing with what Wes did, but understanding why he did it. The conversation paused, then, the only disturbance the sound of a motorcycle driving by and muffled voices from the street. 

_He asked me if I wanted to stay with him._ Wesley signed. Grady’s eyebrows shot up.

_He did?_

_Yeah. Said I could hide in his apartment or move away to C-A-L-I with him. I said no, obviously, but I know he meant it._

_Why didn’t you say yes?_ Grady pushed, suddenly very curious. Wesley shook his head,

_I could never leave you guys behind._ He signed. ‘I could never leave you behind’ Wesley thought, gazing at Grady. Grady felt warmth spread through his chest.

_That’s cheesy._ Grady answered, grinning. Wesley waved him off, staring down at his hands. He looked up,

_Did you love any of your girlfriends?_ Wesley signed, catching Grady by surprise. The noiret let out a breathy chuckle,

_No. We were just M-A-K-I-N-G O-U-T. I’m a terrible boyfriend._ He explained, his smile sad.

_What? Why?_ Wes asked, genuinely concerned. In his mind, Grady would be a fantastic boyfriend, but then, he was also very biased. 

_I don’t give them enough attention, I forget the details, I don’t remember what they like or where they like to go or what they like to eat. I’m not romantic, I don’t make time for them. They all got tired of it eventually._

_These sound like things you could improve if you tried._ Wesley answered, cautious to not make his friend upset. Instead, Grady smiled,

_I guess none of them made me want to be a better boyfriend._ He answered, shaking his head. _They deserved better, though. Especially C-A-S-S-I-E. She was a great girlfriend. But it didn’t work out._

_How many have you had? You’re sixteen._

Grady smiled, waggling his eyebrows. 

_All the ladies in the school._

Wesley whacked him with his left wing, Grady laughing as he got pushed onto his side before leaning up on his elbows. 

_I’m kidding. I just dated three girls. One of them lasted a week. It was stupid._

Wes nodded, smiling. That sounded more like it. They looked at each other, smiling in the darkness. Grady pursed his lips, glancing over at the small window and then back at Wes, before signing,

_I’m still sorry about what happened. You guys deserved a better ending. But I’m sure you’ll find the perfect guy in the future. You’re like, the coolest person I know, all the G-A-Y-S are going to be all over you. Just make sure to remember me when you’re popular and get all the boys._

Wes’ smile widened, shaking his head at Grady’s words. 

_Thanks,_ he signed, _and don’t worry, I could never forget you. You’re my best friend._

_Damn right._ Grady shot back, his smile slowly contorting into a wide yawn. 

_We should rest._ Wesley signed, standing up as slowly as possible. It was a habit he picked up while living with Grady. Whenever they would sneak around the apartment, Grady would tell him to move super slowly, because that meant he was probably being very quiet. Grady didn’t comment on how funny he looked doing it, or how endearing it was to watch, or even how it was actually working quite well, instead he wiggled back across the mattress and buried himself into the now-cold covers. Wes pulled the covers over himself, catching the pained expression on Grady’s face.

_What’s wrong?_

_How aren’t you freezing your balls off? You’re sleeping in underwear and a t-shirt. I’m wearing pants and a sweater and it feels like death._

_So you weren’t just messing with me giving me your cold feet?_

_I was mostly messing with you but warmth was an ideal side effect._

Wesley watched Grady, amused by how the shorter boy pulled his legs up to curl into a ball once more, rubbing his legs up and down as he tried and failed to keep any body warmth underneath the covers. 

“Fucking Chicago,” Grady muttered. He was about to sign more complaints when a warm hand found his and his heart skipped a beat. Their fingers didn’t interlace this time, but he felt a soft tug, pulling him closer. Warm thighs pressed up against his cold feet, and another hand found both of his, closing around them to chase away the cold. Grady thought of saying something, of telling Wes that this was too close, too much, and that he really wasn’t that cold, but then Wesley’s hand was moving from his own to Grady’s waist, strong fingers running up and down his side, as if the friction was going to do anything to heat him up after the summersaults his heart was currently performing. Grady let out a shaky breath and looked at Wes, his eyes wide. The hand on his waist was gone, and Wesley signed a small,

_Better?_

And Grady nodded, sighing as the same hand found its way back to his waist and settled there. His toes felt numb with the temperature change and his hands were probably going to start sweating soon, but Grady didn’t move. He held still, gazing into Wes’ eyes until his eyelids couldn’t take it any longer and slid closed, drifting him into sleep. Wes felt his consciousness slipping as well, enjoying the slight dip from Grady’s ribs to his waist, feeling his cold fingers slowly turn lukewarm. As he stared at Grady’s sleeping face, he felt his heart clench.

‘I love you,’ Wesley thought, finally succumbing to sleep, ‘I love you, Grady.’

**…**

Grady woke up the following morning to the sound of knocking on the door. He groaned, attempting to stretch his body.

“What?” He called out, his voice thick with sleep,

“Breakfast time, hurry up!” Michaelle’s muffled voice called back,

“Ugh, coming!” he groaned, burying his face into his pillow. Michaelle’s soft footsteps receded into the hallway, leaving the room in utter silence. 

Grady breathed out, feeling his body stir within the comfortable heat beneath the blankets. 

Then he remembered the previous night. 

His eyes shot open, shoulders tensing. Grady felt shivers break down his spine. His legs were tangled among Wes’, both of them still facing each other. The taller boy’s face was peaceful, not having heard the exchange. 

“Fuck,” Grady whispered. 

As if on cue, green eyes flashed open.

Time stopped, and all Grady could do was stare. His best friend lay next to him, his sleepy eyes looking at him with nothing but adoration, and Grady felt cold fear grip his heart. 

_Good morning,_ Wesley signed after wiggling his arms out from under the sheets. Grady was unable to answer, instead sitting up abruptly, startling Wes. His friend sat up as well, looking around briefly, suddenly alert, 

_Did you hear something?_ Wes asked. The morning light coming in through the window made a crown of gold around Wes’ auburn curls, making him glow. He looked like an angel, gold dripping down his freckled skin and speckled wings.

When had Wesley become so beautiful? Grady felt lightheaded suddenly. He couldn’t do this, not now. 

_Nothing. I just remembered something. It’s not important._ He signed, quickly getting out of bed and rushing to use the bathroom. 

He ran from their room and across the hallway into the small bathroom and locked the door, turning to face himself in the mirror above the white sink. His hair was an oily mess and there were light circles underneath his pitch-black eyes, his right cheek covered in red lines from the pillow. He looked like a mess, and God, he really hated his cheeks. He took a moment to splash his face with cold water, enjoying how sobering it felt. 

‘What am I doing?’ he thought, pressing his hands into his face, ‘What am I doing!?’

Grady let out a loud growl and stood upright, facing himself in the mirror once again. His glare stared back at him, his face soaked. 

“What are you doing?!” He hissed at himself, bracing the mirror between his hands, “Do you like guys? But you like girls too! You KNOW that. Girls are great!” 

His expression stared back at him, confusion written across his features. 

“But… liking girls doesn’t mean I can’t like boys right? Isn’t that what Aaron was? Bisexual, yeah, that. Maybe you’re that?” He whispered, leaning close to the mirror. “But… but even if I like guys… and I’m not even clear on that right now, EVEN THEN…! Why Wesley? He’s like, your best friend man, don’t do that shit.” He growled, threatening his own reflection. “And he just broke up with the hottest piece of ass in the whole school, okay? … Did I have a crush on Aaron? Oh my God. No, wait, shut up, focus Grady!” He hissed, shaking the mirror in his hands. “Don’t. Fuck. This. Up. Give the guy some space, figure yourself out, and deal with this whole mutant situation first, okay? Keep it together you stupid piece of…”

“Grisha?” His mother’s voice boomed through the bathroom door. Grady shrieked, snapping the mirror open and spilling all its content onto the sink and floor. 

“FUCK. WHAT.” He yelled, his heart racing. 

“Grisha? Are you alright?” 

“I’m FINE! I just need some privacy, mom, please!” He hissed back. His mother gave a huff,

“Alright, Grisha, no need for details. Wesley is patiently waiting for his turn, so please hurry up.” She called, Grady listening as her steps faded away before burying his face in his hands. Wesley was waiting outside. He never knocked when Grady was in the bathroom, always waiting patiently. 

Wesley.

Grady’s memories were suddenly flooded by the feeling of warm thighs and hands, green eyes and auburn hair, bright white wings, and felt himself flush bright red. He sighed, feeling his heartbeat in his ears.

“Fuck.”

**...**

Grady and Wes found the other members of the family and their hosts having Colombian arepas for breakfast while Michaelle chatted avidly with Ricky. 

“We’re heading out at 10 PM,” Faina informed them, signing simultaneously, “Have your things ready, a different guy is picking us up.” 

Grady huffed a response and began eating his food, and not long after, Ricky announced she would take the family sight seeing. Grady politely refused, indicating he wasn’t feeling well, and Wes said he would keep him company. Faina gave them pointed looks but didn’t comment, and within an hour, the only ones left on the kitchen table were the boys and Carolina.

_Do you actually feel bad?_ Wes signed, his mouth full. Grady glanced at him, and then at Carolina, who was staring at him openly, an amused smile on her face.

“Alright, spill, what’s your mutation?” Grady demanded. Wes stopped chewing, mouth still full, and looked over at Carolina cautiously. 

The tall woman laughed, taking a sip of her small coffee cup.

“I can see everything you’ve ever done or thought just by looking at you.”

“What? Everything?” Grady asked, incredulous. 

“Relatively, the longer I look the more I know. If I get a glance, I might just see what you’re currently up to and what you did today. But if I can get a good long look, and if you’re not too old, I can get a good sense of what you’ve done and thought your whole life.” She explained simply. Grady felt his blood run cold, his mind remembering the previous night with Wes, and Carolina gave him a conceited smile, winking at him openly and making him blush. Wes, meanwhile, had gone incredibly pale, his eyes glancing over at Grady before shooting back towards Carolina. 

“What about Ricky?” 

“She’s a shapeshifter. You saw the look she puts on to meet people. She looks very different underneath.” Carolina explained casually, tapping a long finger against the side of her porcelain cup. “But I can always tell when it’s her.” 

“So you’re a team? She shapeshifts, you give her information, an infiltration type of deal?” Grady asked coldly. Carolina narrowed her eyes at him,

“Yes. Teams were usually made up of four to five people back in Jersey. Ricky and I were a rare pair of two, as were your parents.” 

“What did my parents do? Why were they so strong?” 

Carolina chuckled, her gaze suddenly far away,

“Your mother wills her surroundings to obey her, and your father instills emotions into people’s hearts. They were powerful separately, you can’t begin to imagine the power they held together.” Carolina answered, her dark eyes suddenly snapping towards Grady, “But now that you know my power you know that I know exactly what you’re thinking.” 

Grady held her gaze, challenging her to continue. 

“You want to join the cause, but you don’t have any mutations and you’re afraid that they may never show. You want to ask me if I know anybody whose mutations may have been late, or how you can join after they’ve manifested.” she explained, her tone even and cold. 

“Well?” Grady demanded, “Can you answer my questions?” 

Carolina sighed, looking over at Wesley who had set down his food, looking at her intently.

“I can tell you that even if they don’t manifest, you could still join the cause. You wouldn’t be in the front lines, not like your parents, but you can help. There are non-mutants who are part of the cause, allies, and there is no shame in not having mutations.” She explained, “But you have to understand that things get hard, and people lose, and if we go down, you go down with us.” 

“I’m fine with that.” Grady shot back, “But what about late mutations?”

Carolina pursed her lips together, shaking her head slightly.

“That’s a bit more complicated, _mijo_. Frankly, I’ve only met two people who manifested mutations after the age of thirteen. One of them had fire abilities, but they were weak and underdeveloped, he was never able to push them to the same limits as his parents without hurting himself. The second…” She paused, the silence unnerving Grady.

“What happened to the second?” Grady asked, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. 

“She… she developed a latent mutation, gills. She suffocated after they grew in, unable to breathe in air or water.” She explained. Grady felt his stomach drop, his hands curling into fists. There was a hand at his back suddenly, rubbing comforting circles. Wesley’s expression was concerned when he looked at him. 

_I’m fine._ He signed, turning his attention back towards Carolina. 

“I don’t know if your mutations will ever manifest, Grady, but don’t let it dictate your worth. There are many ways to bring about change in this world. Not everything needs to be accomplished through revolution and war.” She explained, sincerity clear in her calm voice. Grady nodded, feeling worse than he had at the beginning of the conversation. 

“Alright, if they don’t manifest then I become an ally and help in the non-mutant world, but… what if they do show up? What do I do? Where do I go? Can I come back here?” He asked, his voice desperate. Wes’ hand stilled on his back as Carolina spoke.

“If they do, then you find the team that best fits your abilities.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Ricky and I, we’re good at hiding people and undercover work. We aren’t helpful in the front line. Your mother and father, they were front line. Wes here would be a great member for the front line, for example.” She indicated, motioning towards the taller boy. “You need to find where you’re needed, and stick to what you can do best. Jersey used to have a big enough army that we could do various things, but after disbanding, we went separate ways. That’s why Ricky and I work with Bruno, his team works on information gathering and hiding mutants.”

“But what happened to the front line? Where did those people go?” Grady pressed, 

Carolina’s demeanor shifted, her back straightening and her eyes fixing on Grady with a stern look. 

“Front line went a few ways. Your parents and many more of them ran away, the crimes they committed too grave for them to survive the judicial system.” 

“Crimes…?” Grady began, but was promptly cut off,

“Some of them joined our sister team on the west coast, they work under a mutant named Chains. She focuses on dismantling extremist groups from within, confronting politicians who lobby against mutants, that sort of deal. The third group… they joined a mutant under the name of the Phoenix.” Carolina seemed to spit out the name,

“Phoenix,” Grady repeated, looking over at Wes and signing the word for him. 

“Phoenix. He’s a front liner who doesn’t respect non-mutants. He masacres soldiers and cops, has no regard for anybody in power. He’s anarchy and destruction, but he runs the whole Midwest, so we put up with him.” Carolina sighed. 

“Where is he?” 

“Runs things out from North Dakota, but he’s currently based here in Chicago.” Carolina looked up at Grady, her eyes piercing. “He’s a dangerous man. Makes brash decisions and puts his people in danger. I don’t know if you’ll ever have the chance to work front line, but if you do, stay away from the guy. He’s nothing but bad news.” 

“But… if I do get the chance… how do I find these people?” Grady pressed. Carolina shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

“If you ever decide to join, mutations or not, come back here to me and Ricky. We’ll put you in contact with the right people, but promise me something, both of you.” The boys exchanged a glance and nodded, their eyes wide,

“Don't keep Faina out of it. She’s gone through enough already, I saw it in her eyes.” Carolina whispered, “If you ever leave, make sure she understands, speak to her. I know she seems dense, but I know she will support you in the end, whatever it is you decide to do.” 

Grady huffed, about to make a rude remark, when Wesley leaned forward and signed,

_We promise._

Grady gave him an incredulous look, about to demand why he was making promises they couldn’t keep when Wes gave him an intense glare, daring him to disagree. Grady rolled his eyes,

“Fine, we promise.” He conceded. Carolina smiled, glancing between the two of them, a content look on her face.

**…**

The driver showed up at exactly 10 PM. Carolina gave him a long hard look before nodding and allowing the Berzinskis to load their luggage.

Carolina tugged both boys into a hug,

"I'll be here should you ever need me." She whispered to Grady. Grady huffed,

“Okay,” He mumbled into her shoulder. Wesley, unaware of the exchange, hugged her back tightly, a small smile on his face. After hugging their hosts, the family climbed into the car. Wesley climbed in first, followed by Grady, who became surprised when the older boy sat in the middle seat. Their eyes met, a challenging glint clear in Wes’ own. 

“Hurry up Grady, your fat butt is in the way!” Michaelle complained, pushing her bag against Grady’s rear and pushing him straight into Wesley’s chest. The boy sputtered, picking himself up and sitting down next to Wesley, his face bright red. 

_You okay?_ Wesley signed, 

_I’m fine._ Grady answered, avoiding eye contact. 

“Page me when you’re at the station.” Rickey reminded Faina. She nodded, patting her pocket.

“I’ll make sure to do so. Thank you, both of you.” 

Ricky nodded, closed the door, and with a final wave, they drove off into the night. 

Grady felt ridiculous. He was sweating and blushing like an idiot. He couldn’t take his mind off the feeling of Wesley’s arm and leg pressed against his own. Should he move away? Would that be too obvious?

He was startled out of his internal dilemma by his mother's voice. 

"Are you feeling better Grisha?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder. Grady cleared his throat,

"Yeah, way better. The nap helped a lot."

"Hmm, I'm glad." She muttered, looking forward. Misha, who had been watching the exchange, leaned forward to whisper something to his wife in Russian. Grady knew that was a sign that he wasn't welcome in the conversation, and instead focused on Wesley. 

The taller boy was looking into the distance, his hands resting on his lap. Grady swallowed, counted to three, and nudged his friend.

_What’re you thinking about?_ He asked as Wes turned his attention to him.

_I’m worried about the trip._

_Why?_

_I don’t know. I think it’s finally hitting me that there are people who want us dead._ He signed, his expression unreadable. Grady grimaced.

_It’s okay, we’ll be fine._ He reassured his friend, unconsciously pressing closer to him as he signed it. Wes looked at him for a moment before smiling,

_I hope so._ He signed. Grady smiled back, feeling his heart skip a beat. 

_What do you want to do when we get to S-E-A-T-T-L-E._ Grady asked. Wes tapped a finger on his chin, pretending to think hard.

_I have no idea. Maybe go fishing?_

_Why the hell would you go fishing?_

_It’s called sea-A-T-T-L-E, it has to have lots of fish, right?_ Wes asked. Grady scrunched his face, 

_What kind of reasoning is that?_

_Good reasoning._ Wesley answered, tapping his head to point out his good thinking skills. Grady chuckled and rolled his eyes. Wes was giving him one of those looks, the adoring ones, when his eyes snapped towards the window, his smile fading. 

Grady barely had time to register the change before Wes was enveloping him in his long arms and time stopped.

A loud crunch resounded through the air and Grady felt pain erupt from his right leg, his world spinning as he slipped from gravity’s grip and floated in the air for a breathless moment. He heard Michaelle scream, tires screech, metal contort. Gravity snatched him out of the air, his body slamming into Wes as the whole car fell on it’s side, skidding down the street. Sparks and glass flying in every direction, Grady’s arms clutching at Wes’ sides instinctively as he let out a scream of his own, the adrenaline squeezing his chest and twisting his stomach.

The car screeched to a stop, but Grady’s world kept spinning. 

The first thing he registered was Michaelle’s wailing. His mind tried to make sense of her words as his body made sense of the warmth beneath him. His heart clenched.

“Wes…” He croaked, the words painful as he tried to look up, his head heavy. 

“Papa! Papa!” Michaelle’s words slowly registered. Grady’s body ran cold, his neck bursting with pain when he tried to lift his head. He let out a pained wimper, his hand clutching Wes’ body tighter.

“Michaelle!” He yelled, his voice hoarse. 

“Grady! Dad’s bleeding a lot! He’s not waking up” Michaelle cried, her voice thick with tears. “Grady!” 

“Fuck, calm down, I’m coming!” he yelled, his heart beating a mile per minute. Grady squeezed Wes’ body tightly, trying to force the taller boy to react. He hissed, slowly rising to his elbows, his neck complaining, and felt his heart stop. 

Wesley wasn’t moving. His arms lay at his sides and his head had rolled onto his shoulder, the whites of his eyes peeking from beneath his lids and his lips parted.

“Wes,” Grady whispered, his throat constricting in fear. It took all his strength to lean on one shaky arm and reach forward with the other, “Wes.”

He placed a shaking hand on Wes’ cheek, feeling the soft skin under his palm. He rocked him softly, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes when the taller boy didn’t react.

“Wes, please,” he begged, shaking the taller boy harder, his fingers slipping into auburn locks as he felt tears begin to spill down his cheeks. He gave a quivering breath, his heart beating loudly in his ears, and he moved his fingers from soft locks to a strong neck.

He felt a soft pulse beneath his fingertips, and he almost sobbed in relief.

A loud rip assaulted his ears, Grady curling over Wes defensively as the car’s door was ripped off from above his head. He heard Michaelle’s terrified voice and tried to think of a way in which he could get Wesley and his dad out of the car at the same time. The air near him shifted,

“No! Give her back!” Michaelle yelled. Grady turned his head, watching in fear as an enormous hand lifted his unconscious mother from the mess of the car, her body bent at a terrible angle. He let out a terrified whine, his limbs shaking.

“Mom!” He yelled, but she was gone, leaving only the cloudy Chicago sky above them. He felt the body beneath him stir, gasping as he lifted his head and looked down at green eyes fluttering open.

“Wes,” he tried to get the taller boy to focus on his lips as he spoke, shaking him. “Wes!” 

Green eyes focused on him, hazy with confusion.

“Wes, we have to get out of here, come on, you have to…” Michaelle’s scream echoed through the air just as a large hand snatched the back of his shirt and he was lifted into the air.

“No!” He yelled, Wesley slipping from his weak grip. Green eyes widened, panic clearly written across Wes’ face as his hands reached up and disappeared from Grady’s view as he was pulled out of the car and dropped unceremoniously onto the hard concrete ground. He winced in pain. People were screaming, he realized, and he could hear sirens in the distance. He looked around in panic. He was surrounded by various people dressed in black gear, large guns in their hands, many pointed at him. His mother’s body lay near him, and his heart jumped into his throat. 

“Mom,” He murmured, trying to crawl over to her, but a strong hand clutched the back of his neck. He screamed as he was pulled away from her, his feet dragging on the concrete. 

“Knock him out,” a voice commanded. A cold palm was placed on his forehead and before Grady could let out another scream, his world went black. 

**…**

Grady came to slowly, colorful spots dancing behind his eyelids as he slowly surfaced to consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, harsh neon light making his head hurt.

“Finally, the last one wakes up.” A smooth voice announced. Grady’s vision slowly focused on a figure standing before him. A man, clearly in his late 50s, stood tall and proud, looking down at Grady in disgust. His teeth were bright white and his blonde graying hair was neatly combed back. His bright blue eyes cold as ice and his thin lips pursed.

“Welcome to the world of the living,” he announced, “Took you long enough.” 

“Grady…” Michaelle’s quiet, terrified quip made him snap out of his haze. His head shot up, looking around the room frantically until his eyes landed on his little sister and his parents. His heart rate skyrocketed, three pairs of dark eyes looking back at him. 

His whole family was tied to metal chairs that were soldered to the ground, his father’s head bandaged and Michaelle’s eyes brimming with tears. A quick glance confirmed that her hearing aids were still in, but there was a dark bruise blossoming on her forehead, scratches littering her ivory skin. Dark black tape covered his parent’s mouths, and there were guarded soldiers positioned behind them. It didn’t take long for Grady to realize he was in the same situation, minus the tape. They were in a tall warehouse, he noticed, and the same soldiers in black stood on all sides, their guns at ready. But something was missing.

Where was Wes?

“You have evaded our grasp for too long, Viedma and Golos, The Witch and The Voice, the infamous leaders of the east coast revolution.” the man recited, a cold smile spread across his pale ivory face. “We thought it was strange when you both disappeared, but it’s become quite clear you’ve been busy.” He glanced at Michaelle and Grady, his eyes narrowed. 

If looks could kill, Faina would have murdered the whole room ten times over, her dark eyes brimming with rage. 

“What a shame, though, that you’ve birthed two non-mutants. The youngest one we might keep tabs on, she could technically still manifest, but the oldest one is clearly past the age of showing.” The man slowly walked towards Michaelle, his eyes trained on her dark hair as she lowered her gaze, shaking slightly. “It would be fascinating, but for your sake, let’s hope it never happens.” 

Grady would have been more preoccupied with glaring the man down, just like his mother, if he weren’t trying to glance around the room, looking for auburn locks and green eyes. This didn’t go unnoticed by the man, who smiled sickly at Grady.

“Looking for a certain little angel, aren’t we?” he murmured. Grady’s eyes shot up at the pale face, panic and anger burning through him. 

“Where the fuck is he, you nasty piece of shit.” He spat. The man scrunched his nose at the insults,

“All in due time, young boy.” he assured, making Grady’s insides twist into a knot. What had they done with Wesley? “First, we must deal with the elephant in the room.” 

The man walked away from Grady slowly, stopping in front of Faina. 

“I’ll cut the crap, Viedma, I have no interest in holding prisoners as powerful as you two in my facility. You both know you aren’t making it through the night.” He explained calmly. Michaelle inhaled shakily, letting out a terrified whine as the tears flooded out of her eyes. Grady felt himself start to shake. Misha lowered his head, squeezing his eyes shut and balling his fists. Faina continued to glare. “But your kids, they might. You just need to do me a small favor.”

Faina breathed in and out, trying to relax her body. Her eyes never left the pale man. After a few seconds, she tipped her head forward, challenging him to continue. The man snickered, before his expression turned somber.

“The largest display of your prowess was in 1975, you eliminated all the information we had collected on hiding mutants. Your powers reached the entirety of the east coast, an admirable feat.” He recounted, grimacing at the memory. “Today you will do the same for me. But it won’t be information, not this time.” 

The man put his arms behind his back, standing at his full height as he looked down at Faina. 

“You’re going to kill all the mutants in the Midwest.” 

Misha’s eyes snapped open, Faina eye’s widening and her hands gripping the metal of the chair so hard it whined. Grady felt his stomach drop. All the mutants in the midwest. That meant Carolina, Ricky…

His parents and Wesley.

“What the actual fuck!” Grady yelled, “What the fuck! You can’t make her do that, that’s… that’s…” Grady thrashed in his chair, fully aware of Michaelle who was full on sobbing now. The man never took his eyes off Faina. “Look at me asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you!” 

“Shut him up,” The man ordered, looking like he was developing a migraine. A thick gloved hand rounded Grady’s face, holding his mouth shut. He continued to thrash and yell, muffled by the material.

“I know you won’t do it, not in principle. I also know that you could just lie to me. So I’ve come prepared for our little meeting.” He stated. He turned around, motioning towards the guards near the single double doors leading into the warehouse. The guards nodded and opened the door. Grady felt his stomach drop.

A large table was rolled into the room, Wesley’s figure pulled taut across the surface. Misha gave a desperate groan, and Michaelle started to cry harder. The taller boy was awake and clearly panicking, his chest heaving and skin glimmering with sweat. He was shirtless, his long wings pinned at his sides, as well as his arms and legs. Worst of all, he was blindfolded. He looked terrified. 

Grady couldn’t stop watching as they wheeled the table in and pulled the latches, inclining the surface so it was facing the family. Wesley let out a small, unconscious whine, and Grady saw red. 

He bit hard, the hand pulling away momentarily, the material too thick to really do any damage,

“Let him go!” He demanded. 

“If you both don’t shut up I will shoot him dead.” The man growled at Grady. Grady paled, his stomach clenching, and Michaelle did her best to hold her sobs in, taking quivering breaths. “Now,” He turned towards Faina, who was still glaring, her fists shaking now. “You know he will perish tonight, regardless, but the sooner you comply, the sooner his suffering will be over.” One of the soldiers near Wes walked forward, unsheathing a long dagger from his belt, crossing his arms and waiting. 

“Wes…” Grady wheezed, fear constricting his throat.

“Hush,” the man hissed, turning his attention to the doors, signaling the guards once more. 

The guards opened the door for a second time, three figures walking in. Misha gave a small gasp as they noticed the short twelve year old girl with a brunette bob and nervous ice-blue eyes. She was shaking, her face blotchy from tears, and her clothes rumpled. 

“Faina, meet Molly.” the man announced, smiling at the young girl. The young girl stopped in her tracks as she caught sight of the family tied to their chairs. One of the guards pushed her harshly, almost making her trip on her face, but she caught herself, a small scared sound escaping her lips. 

“Molly has an amazing ability. She’s able to read what people are thinking.” The man explained, the small girl arriving next to him, guards on either side. “She’s going to tell me whether you are lying or telling the truth, and in exchange, we’ll be letting her lovely non-mutant parents go.” he finished with a smile, looking down at the shaking girl, “Isn’t that right Molly?”

Molly nodded, her face determined yet terrified. Grady was going to be sick,

“She’s just a kid,” Grady whispered, 

“A very capable kid,” The man countered, looking up to face Faina.

“Well then, Faina, what do you say? Will you go through with the favor?” 

Faina’s veins were popping from her forehead at this point, her glare so harsh it was a wonder the man hadn’t burst into flames at this point. Misha glanced between his wife and the man, trying to come up with something to say, something to do. Molly stared intently at Faina, her icy blue eyes focused. 

Faina took a deep breath and nodded.

“Is she lying?” The man asked Molly. The smaller girl narrowed her eyes, biting her lower lip in deep thought.

“She… she’s lying.” Molly whispered finally. Faina let out an exasperated huff, shaking her head. 

“Is she now.” The man replied, glaring down at the dark-haired woman. He tisked, shaking his head. He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, and the soldier next Wes raised his weapon.

Grady had only heard Wesley’s voice a handful of times. He’d been woken up by Wesley crying during a nightmare once before, making small unconscious noises, and he’d listened to the boy recite the few words he knew how to say. His voice was clumsy, but sweet. Controlled to the best of his ability. 

This, however, was a nightmare of its own.

The blade slid straight into Wesley’s right wing, and the boy screamed. His voice echoing through the warehouse as Michaelle started to cry again.

“No!” Grady yelled, thrashing against his constraints. “No, no, no, no!” 

The man didn’t even spare Wesley a second thought, looking at the way Faina’s features contorted into shock and anger.

“Shut him up!” He yelled above Wesley’s screaming. A second guard pushed a cloth into Wesley’s mouth, muffling the awful noise as the taller boy pulled against his restraints uselessly. 

“Stop! Please stop!” Grady begged, trying to get the man’s attention. 

“Faina, you can make it stop. Listen to your son.” He admonished. Faina was breathing heavily now, sweat dripping down her forehead as she glared at the man. She squeezed her eyes, thinking hard.

“Think faster, Faina.” He pressed, lifting his hand and snapping his fingers once more. 

A second blade went into Wes’ left wing, and Grady began to cry. 

“Fuck you!” He yelled, “Fuck you, you piece of shit!” a gloved hand covered his mouth again, his tears and snot smearing across black poliester. 

Faina yelled, the sound muffled by the constraints and the man raised his palm. Everybody in the room stopped. Faina’s shoulders shook, her knuckles white as she gripped the metal chair beneath her. She looked up at Molly, her eyes pleading, and Molly, who was now pale in fear, stared back.

“She says… she says she’ll do it. And she’s not lying.” Molly answered softly. The man smiled, relief washing over his features. 

“That’s wonderful, how about…”

“On one condition.” Molly interjected, looking up at the man. The man stared down at the twelve year old, his eyes narrowed.

“She’s not in a position to place conditions.”

“Her son.” Molly pressed, “She wants her son to be with his friend when it happens.” 

The man paused, glancing at Grady who was now crying quietly, his chin digging into his chest, his mouth held tightly shut by the large gloved hand. 

“His friend is the angel?” He asked, and Molly nodded. The man sighed, glancing around at the soldiers in the room. “May it be known that I am not heartless. Let the boys go, but keep the wings tied down.” He announced.

Grady’s chest heaved as the gloved hand released his face and he felt his restraints loosen, his eyes trained on Wesley, his wings now crimson, dripping with blood. Too much blood. The guards pulled the table back down into horizontal position, releasing Wesley’s arms just as Grady’s last constraint came off. He nearly tripped onto his face, crashing momentarily into the ground before picking himself up and closing the distance between them, tears still flowing freely down his face. Wesley lay motionless, his chest rising up and down slowly, and Grady clambered onto the table, one hand on either side of Wesley’s head as he ripped the blindfold off. 

Green eyes tried to refocus slowly, lost in the distance. Wesley was pale, deathly so. The amount of blood still flowing from his wings spreading further with each passing second.

“Wes,” Grady cried, placing both hands on his best friend’s cheeks. Wesley’s eyes finally focused, realization dawning on him as tears began to flow from his own eyes. Even now, pinned down onto a torture table, bleeding out, he still looked at Grady like he’d hung the stars.

_I’m so sorry,_ Grady signed.

_It’s okay._ Wes answered, his hand reaching up to pull Grady down, pressing their foreheads together. 

“It’s endearing isn’t it,” the man’s voice echoed through the room, “I used to wonder why we couldn’t get along like that. But your kind has showed me that there is no place for both of us in this world.” 

Grady drew back slightly, noticing Wes’ breathing was turning shallow, his eyes slowly unfocusing. 

_Don’t fall asleep,_ Grady signed urgently. Wesley shook his head, his arms seemingly unresponsive. _Don’t leave me._

Wesley smiled at him, his eyes still on Grady’s face. He stared a little longer before his nose scrunched up and more tears spilled from his eyes.

_I don’t… want… to die._ He signed slowly. 

“You aren’t going to die!” Grady yelled, his hands refusing to let go of Wesley’s face.

_I have… so much… to tell you._

“Shut up, you aren’t going to die.” Grady whispered, his voice shaking. He could hear the man saying something, but he couldn’t care less. His entire world was focused on Wesley. “We’re going to get out of here, we’re going to run away and you’re going to get a great boyfriend and live a great life, okay?”

_I don’t… want… a boyfriend._ He signed, his pulse weak under Grady’s fingers. 

“Then we can get you anything you want. Anything you want. I promise. I’ll get it for you. You just need to stay awake.” Grady hissed, patting Wesley’s cheek, trying to keep green eyes on his. This close, Grady could smell Wesley’s scent, buried underneath the metallic tang of blood, he could see the small freckles on his face. He felt his heart carving itself out with every second Wesley slipped further away, his hands shaking and his stomach churning. 

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

Grady kept babbling, trying to convince the winged-boy to stay with him, to keep his eyes open a little longer, but deep in his heart, he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. 

“We’re gonna move to Seattle and we’re going to see the sea, and I’m gonna make you eat all the nasty seafood we can find. And we’re going to go to school together and then when my powers show up we’ll fight together. You promised me Wes…” Grady could barely keep his voice under control, it was shaking so bad. Wes’ eyes were sad, staring at his lips as he tried to focus on Grady’s words, “You promised.”

Wesley’s lips parted, as if trying to say something, but only a shaky breath came out.

“Wes,” he begged. The auburn-haired boy looked up at him, adoration clear in his green eyes. He gave Grady a sad smile, and with the last bit of energy he could muster, leaned up a short distance, and pressed their lips together. 

Grady had been kissed before, but nothing prepared him for the warmth that surged through his body as frozen lips pressed to his. And nothing prepared him for the dreadful cold that followed when those same lips left him, and Wesley’s head fell back against the table, motionless. 

“No,” Grady whispered. His shaking fingers pressed into Wes’ neck, but was met with silence. Grady suddenly couldn’t breathe, and something snapped in his heart, in his bones, in his mind.

“ **No,** ” The deepest core of his consciousness began to quiver, the breath in his lungs began to swirl and the horizons of his mind began to close in on themselves.

“ **No, no! You’re not dying on me!** ” Grady’s voice felt omnipresent in his own mind, like he’d spoken them into his own ears, whispered and screamed simultaneously. It wasn’t only his voice, it was the voice of a hundred people, yearning, crying, screaming, morphing. 

“ **You’re going to live!** ” His eyes began to burn, his voice sliding like acid down his throat, burning him, “ **You’re going to live and you’re going to stay with me forever!** ”

A blinding light filled the room, a deafening sound resounding through the four tall walls, and Grady felt himself burst. And for a moment, he was everywhere yet nowhere all at once. He could feel every particle around him, he became every sound, and as soon as it had begun, it was over. 

The light disappeared, the room plunged into still silence, and in the midst of it all Wesley gasped loudly.

“Christ,” The man spoke, his attention now fully focused on Grady, who had collapsed on the winged boy. His head was spinning, his ear pressed against Wesley’s chest, when he heard it; a heartbeat. He was on his knees in a flash, staring down at hazy green eyes and flushed pink cheeks, Wes’ breathing echoing in the room. He gasped, relief cursing through him.

‘I can wish things into reality.’ His mother’s words echoed in his mind, and Grady felt time stop.

He did it.

He had powers.

He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face, reaching up and slapping Wesley’s face softly and repeatedly.

“Wesley! Wesley! I did it! I have powers man! I did it!” He yelled, the auburn-hair boy trying to gather his bearings. He stared up at a widely smiling Grady, tear tracks staining his face, before realizing the pain was gone. He looked from side to side, mouth dropping open in shock as he looked at his wings.

The blades were gone, as was the blood. Not a trace of them to be found. Additionally, he realized, both of them were free from their confinements. In a flash, Wesley sat up, both arms wrapping around Grady and his wings unfurling, his green eyes narrowed towards the man standing near Faina, a sneer clear on his lips. 

“Enough.” The man yelled. All the guns in the room were pointed towards the boys. Grady watching from over Wes’ shoulder, clinging to him. 

“Congratulations boy,” The man hissed, “You’ll be dying with your parents tonight. Now someone tie those two down before we get any more unpleasant surpri…”

The doors to the warehouse exploded, fire crawling from the entrance like snakes in water, and within seconds, the place was overrun by chaos. 

Wesley dove off the table, pulling Grady with him and crawling underneath the cold metal, his wings enveloping both of them. Grady heard screams and gunshots, the air slowly filling with smoke, and then he heard his mother speak.

“ **You’ll all drop dead.** ” 

The silence that followed was thick, pressing upon Grady like water, making it hard to breathe. A loud snap resounded in the room, and one of the guards near them fell to the floor, his neck bent in half. Grady gasped, his shaking hands digging into Wesley’s warm back.

Another crack echoed through the air, and another and another. One by one, the soldiers began to fall, their necks bent in all the wrong angles, their bodies hitting the floor sickeningly. Grady and Wes stared in horror as more than 50 soldiers fell to their deaths, the last wet crunch coming from the man who had brought them there. He fell on the floor, his expression frozen in absolute fear, his eyes lifeless. 

“Fuck,” Grady heard his mother’s voice again, but this time it sounded normal. “Fuck, fuck! Grisha? Wesley?!” 

The boys crawled out from beneath the table, and suddenly Faina was hugging both of them tightly. She pulled back, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Grady yelled, “That was amazing! You saved us!”

“Molly saved us,” Michaelle called from where she was helping her father cut the rope tying him down. Molly stood nearby, a piece of black tape clenched in her fists. “She pulled mom’s tape off her mouth when the asshole was distracted!” 

Misha, his face red and blotchy, hugged his daughter as soon as he was free. 

“We need to move, we have to get out of here.” Faina began, pushing the boys towards Misha, 

“But who started the fire? Who caused the explosion?” Grady asked, pulling his father up to his feet, the older man immediately enveloping his son into a tight hug as well, as Wesley offered Molly his hand. She took it, her small hand shaking, gripping it tightly. 

“It doesn’t matter, we need to find her parents and get out of…”

“Molly!” A man’s voice called from the burning doorway. Molly’s head snapped in its direction so fast Wesley was amazed she didn’t hurt herself doing so. 

“Dad!” She yelled back. The fire from the door began to recede, shrinking until there was nothing left but scorch marks and bright red metal. A man and a woman ran through the steaming doorway. Molly ran towards them, her hand slipping out of Wes’, and ran directly into their arms. They were both crying. 

“Were you two the ones responsible for the fire? You’re Molly’s parents, correct?” Faina demanded. 

The father, a handsome man dressed in a deputy’s uniform, shook his head.

“We’re her parents, but we’re not mutants. Deputy Lou Solverson, this is my wife, Betsy.” He explained, holding his wife and daughter in his arms. He had Molly’s icy blue eyes and light brown hair, his features sharp. Betsy’s large brown eyes were trained on Faina, assessing her.

“Faina, and these are my kids and that’s my husband Misha.” Faina turned towards her husband, who was currently crushing Wesley in a tight hug, his shoulders still shaking. The tall boy was holding him tightly as well, tears in his eyes. “Well, it doesn’t matter who started the fire anymore. Misha, snap out of it we have to move.” 

“That boy can’t go outside like that,” Betsy said suddenly, her eyes on Wesley. He was still shirtless. “He’ll freeze.”

“Here,” Lou said, shrugging off his big deputy coat and handing it to Wesley. The deaf boy bowed his head in thanks and shrugged the coat on. It was a bit small in the arms, but otherwise fit perfectly.

“Alright, let’s head out.” Faina announced. 

The seven of them exited the warehouse, the freezing night air snaking into their clothes and burning their cheeks, snowflakes floating down from the sky. 

“Where are we?” Faina asked, assessing her surroundings. There was nothing but trees and snow. 

“I’m not sure, we’ve been in the facilities since yesterday.” Lou explained, pulling his sleeve back to look at his watch. “It’s nearly 5 AM, the sun should be rising soon.”

“We missed the train,” Michaelle mumbled, holding her father’s hand and shivering. 

“No shit,” Grady hissed, rubbing his arms to try and keep somewhat warm. He suddenly felt puffy-sleeved arms surround him, pulling him onto a soft chest. He looked up and found Wesley looking down at him with a small smile.

_Better?_ He signed with one hand. Grady blushed, nodding as he looked back at his parents. The adults were currently conspiring together, trying to find a way out of their current dilemma. Michaelle and Molly, however, were looking over at the boys. Molly’s eyes were wide and curious, while Michaelle had the biggest shit-eating grin Grady had ever seen.

“Shut up,” Grady hissed, glaring at her. She rolled her eyes, wrapping an arm around Molly’s shoulders,

“Boys…” she said to her, sighing dramatically. Molly gave her a quizzical look, glancing back at the boys. 

“How are there no cars here?” Betsy said, turning in a circle as she tried to look for a vehicle parked nearby. 

“Chances are they got us here through a helicopter,” Lou said, looking up at the roof of the warehouse. “The roof is big enough, I’d reckon they’ve got a whole landing pad right on top of it.” 

“Fuck,” Faina muttered.

“Faina, find out where we are first and let’s go from there.” Misha murmured, placing a reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder. She nodded, closing her eyes and focusing. They began to glow bright white.

“ **I want to know where I am.** ” She spoke, her voice resonating in the quiet night. A soft gust of wind pushed the fresh snow around them, swirling around Faina as she received her answer. She sighed, her eyes flashing open.

“We’re in fucking Wisconsin.” She hissed, “Right off of Lake Superior, on this… tiny little peninsula.” 

“That’s close to Minnesota, Duluth specifically.” Lou answered, “There should be a town nearby, somewhere we can walk to.” 

“We’ll freeze,” Misha mumbled.

“Well we can’t stay here. And we won’t die. I won’t let it happen.” Faina countered, her voice commanding. Misha smiled at this,

“I know you won’t.” he murmured lovingly. 

Grady listened attentively as they decided what direction to move in, feeling much warmer in Wesley’s embrace. The taller boy leaned forward, placing his cheek on the crown of Grady’s head. Grady’s heart skipped a beat.

Wesley liked him. Wesley really, honest to God liked him. As more than a friend. Just thinking about the kiss made his lips tingle, his stomach fluttering as he placed his hands on Wes’, pulling them tighter around himself. 

He’d almost lost this. He’d almost lost Wes. 

His throat squeezed, his eyes burning as he tried to keep his tears at bay. 

But he’d brought him back, Grady had wished him into existence, just like his mother could. 

Grady wiggled in Wesley’s grip, turning around until he was facing the taller boy.

_Do you remember what happened?_ He signed. Wesley tilted his head, shrugging slightly,

_Somewhat._ He signed, his brow furrowed as he tried to recall the blurry events. _I think… I think I died? And your mom, she wished me back._

Grady shook his head, a giddy smile forming on his lips. 

_No, she didn’t bring you back._ He signed. _I did._

Wesley’s mouth dropped open in shock, eyes widening.

_You did?_

_I did._

_You have mutations?_

_I do!_

Wesley’s mouth morphed into a giant smile, his hands gripping Graddy’s shoulders and shaking him. Grady laughed,

_I told you!_

_You did! You were right!_

_I’m always right!_

_You did it! You…_ Wesley paused, realization dawning on his features. _You saved me._

Grady felt sheepish suddenly, his heart still clenching when he remembered how Wesley had looked, pale and weak beneath him, his pulse slowing down… 

_Yeah, I did._ He answered. _I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t worked._

_Thank you._ Wesley signed, gazing at Grady softly, his expression overflowing with adoration. _You’re amazing. You’re so amazing._

_Stop._ Grady complained, feeling a bright flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. 

_You are._ Wes insisted, leaning close. Grady’s breath hitched, his heart racing. They were so close Grady could feel Wes’ warm breath as it slipped out of his lips in clouds of white. He looked up, entranced by green eyes, and started to lean forward when... 

“Grady,” His mother called. He jumped, turning around to see his mother still in deep conversation with the other adults. Michaelle and Molly had joined the adults’ conversation, listening intently.

“Yeah?” Grady asked, thankful nobody was looking. Wesley leaned back, a disappointed look on his face. 

“I’m going to need your help.” She announced, “We’re going to combine our powers to try and contact Carolina. She’ll know how to find us.” 

Graddy nodded, glancing back at Wes with an apologetic look, before stalking forward and joining the adults. 

“Okay, what do we do?” Grady asked. 

“First, I’m going to try and do it by myself. If it doesn’t work, we’re going to hold hands and try together.” Faina explained, 

“We need to hold hands?” Grady mumbled,

“It’s how my mother and I used to do it and it worked.” She snapped back. 

“Wait,” Lou said suddenly, catching everyone’s attention. “Someone’s here.” 

The group was abruptly quiet, listening intently. Surely enough, the sound of an engine growled nearby. 

“Get Wes,” Faina instructed Grady, who turned around and beckoned the taller boy closer to the group. “Everyone stand behind me. Nobody speak, and if things go bad, we run west.” 

“Where’s west?” Michaelle quipped, latching onto Wesley who put a comforting arm around her shoulders. 

“Directly behind us,” Misha answered, standing on Faina’s left.

“Grisha,” Faina said, “You stand with us now.” 

Grady nodded, standing on his mother’s right, the rest of their group huddled behind them. 

The motor’s sound grew louder, headlights shining in the distance, filtering from within the trees. A large vehicle appeared, sleek black with tinted windows.

“Is it their back up?” Betsy asked, holding her daughter close.

“ **I want to know who it is.** ” Faina whispered, the air around her charged. Her eyes narrowed as the car slowed to a stop several feet away from them. She sighed.

“It’s a few mutants.” She announced. The group let out a collective breath of relief, and Faina rolled her eyes. “Don’t relax, idiots, we don’t know who they work for!” She hissed. 

The passenger door swung open, and two black boots stepped out from the car. A short man with sharp cheekbones and pale umber skin stepped forward, a large scar painting his face from top to bottom right, directly through his right eye. His pitch black hair was long and silky, reaching his shoulders. He was dressed entirely in black, his knee-length coat billowing in the wind, and he approached the group leisurely, his steps slowing as he stood before them. 

“Faina Berzinski,” He greeted with a tip of his head. “What an honor to meet the legend herself.” 

Faina narrowed her eyes, assessing the man carefully. 

“And you are?” She asked, her voice dripping with authority and disdain. Grady wanted to roll his eyes. 

“A fan,” the man announced. “Of you, of your work, of your legacy. You may have heard of me, I’ve been making a name for myself here in the midwest.” He paused, his dark eyes glimmering dangerously, “I am known as the Phoenix.” 

Grady’s eyes widened, resisting the urge to turn around and tell Wes. Michaelle was with him, anyway, she was probably interpreting for him. 

“Yes,” Faina answered, glaring at the man. “I’ve heard stories of you. An anarchist who doesn’t care much for those who are non-mutants.” 

“Indeed,” he answered, seemingly proud of the title. “But don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you or the non-mutant parents behind you. You’ve gone through enough today. I’m here to make sure you’re all taken safely to your desired location.”

“You’re the one who started the fire.” Grady exclaimed, his mother tensing next to him. The Phoenix turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. 

“I am, with some help from my people,” he answered. 

“How do you expect to help us, the car isn’t big enough for all of us.” Faina challenged.

“What we mean to say,” Misha interjected, giving his wife a disapproving look, “Is that we are thankful for your help. How should we proceed?” 

“The car is not for you. I brought a team to clean up the mess. One of my subordinates will make a portal for you at your desired location. Make sure to choose wisely, you’ll be on your own after you cross the threshold.” 

Faina huffed, but nodded.

“Thank you.” She mumbled. The Phoenix nodded and signaled at the car, a tall redheaded woman stepping out from the backseats. She approached the group cautiously, before nodding towards them.

“Let’s start with the non-mutants,” she stated, her voice dripping with disgust. 

Lou and Betsy looked at each other before glancing at the Berzinski’s, who gave them reassuring nods. 

“We’d like to be dropped off in Luverne, Minnesota, please.” Betsy indicated. The redhead nodded, pointing her open palm in their direction. A bright orange circle manifested into the air, the inside reflecting a small and quiet alleyway. 

“That’s behind the salon,” Betsy whispered, Lou nodding. He turned towards the Berzinskis,

“Thank you, all of you, for everything.” He said earnestly. 

“Thank your daughter, she saved the day after all.” Faina reassured. The couple nodded, and without looking back, stepped through the portal with Molly. The portal closed and they were gone.

“What about you?” She asked, her tone far more polite as she addressed the remaining family members.

“We’ll be headed to Seattle, please.” Misha answered with a small smile. The redhead nodded, repeating the process. 

“Thank you for your help,” Faina told The Phoenix, who nodded his head in respect. “Let’s go kids.”

“No.” 

Faina froze, looking over at her son who hadn’t moved.

“What do you mean no? You’d rather walk there?” She asked. Grady turned on his heel, fire in his eyes.

“I’m not going to Seattle.” 

“Grisha, what’s wrong?” Misha asked, concern clear in his voice. Grady shook his head before turning to face the Phoenix.

“I want to work for you. I want to be a part of the front line.” He announced. Misha gasped and Faina’s jaw dropped open. Wesley, who was still holding Michaelle, watched the situation unfold with concern. 

“Grisha!” Faina yelled,

“I’m not hiding anymore!” He yelled back, “You saw what happened in there. They wanted us dead. They wanted all the mutants in the Midwest dead! If my mutations hadn’t manifested, Wesley would be dead for sure!” 

Faina stepped back, her face pale in shock. 

“You decided you wanted to run away from this, you abandoned the mutants who needed you.” He pressed, “I’m not going to make the same mistake.” 

Faina stared at her son, her eyes wide and mouth parted, unable to make a sound. Her eyes turned to the Phoenix.

“And you, you would take a sixteen year old as a subordinate?” She challenged. The Phoenix shrugged,

“Normally I wouldn’t, but this is Faina Berzinski’s kid we’re talking about. Nothing about this situation is normal.” he answered simply. Faina shook her head in disbelief. 

“Grady,” she began, slowly, barely repressed anger simmering behind her words, “If you walk away from us now, you’ll never see us again. I won’t allow it.” 

Grady felt his determination falter, his heart clenching at the thought. His mother, his father, his little sister. He would lose them for good. 

But that would have happened anyway if the Phoenix hadn’t intervened.

“I don’t care.” He answered, his voice shaking slightly. “If it means that I can keep this from happening to other mutants, other families, then I don’t care.” 

Faina stared at her son, he fists clenched at her sides. 

“Fine,” she hissed, her voice thick with emotion, “Do what you want.” 

She turned on her heels, crossing through the portal without looking back. Misha and Michaelle still remained, staring at Grady in disbelief. Michaelle moved first, rushing forward and hugging her brother.

“Don’t go,” she mumbled into his chest,

“I have to,” 

“No you don’t!” 

“I do,” He hugged her tightly, “I really do.” 

She pulled away, tears in her eyes. 

“Promise me you’ll visit.” she whispered. Grady did his best to not cry, keeping his eyes open and taking a deep breath.

“I’ll try,” he answered, “Take care of dad, ok?” 

She nodded, hugged him once more, and turned away, walking towards her father’s side. Misha, though, wasn’t looking at his son. Instead he was looking at Wes.

_You’re going to stay with him, right?_ He asked the boy. Wes nodded, his eyes glossy. Misha nodded, understanding, before he walked forward and hugged Wes.

_Take care of him,_ he signed when they parted. _Please take care of yourselves._

_We will._ Wes signed, tears running down his cheeks. _Thank you for everything. For the life you gave me._

_No, thank you._ Misha answered, before turning to his son. He closed the distance between them and hugged him tightly. 

“If you ever regret it, if you’re ever afraid,” he whispered in Grady’s ear, “You can always come home. We’ll always welcome you home, both of you, no matter what your mother says.” 

Grady nodded, hugging his father back tightly. They parted hesitantly, Misha giving his son a kiss on the forehead before turning around and walking towards the portal. Michaelle had been hugging Wes, making him promise to try and visit, before she turned around, tears in her eyes, and took her father’s hand. They walked through the portal, and within seconds, the only life Grady had ever known disappeared.

“Welcome to the group, kid,” the Phoenix announced. “I’m assuming your friend is coming too?” 

Wesley walked up to Grady, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Grady gave him a meaningful look before turning around and facing his new boss.

“Yeah,” He announced, loud and clear, “He’s my partner.”

**…**

The Phoenix’s organization, or syndicate as they called it, was located in Fargo, North Dakota. They had a few smaller locations, including a smaller group that was running things out of Chicago, Illinois, which is how they found out about the effort to kidnap the Berzinskis. The boys, however, were sent straight to North Dakota to settle down and start training.

“The kid with wings can’t even fly,” The Phoenix had told his assistant, a tall blonde man in his late 40s with reptilian eyes. “Make sure to get some facilities set up for that. I want them ready for basic combat in two years tops.” 

They arrived at Fargo later in the morning, two mutants showing them their new quarters. Grady was surprised when they were led to a studio apartment with a quaint kitchen and two mattresses on the floor,

“You get individual quarters if you stay long enough,” one of the mutants muttered, staring them down, “Or if you survive long enough.” 

“Quit scaring the new recruits, asshole,” the second mutant hissed. 

“They’re actual children, we don’t recruit children.”

“They’re not joining any missions until later.” 

“We are literally right here,” Grady interjected, getting their attention. They apologized and continued to show them around.

As soon as they left, Wes locked the door behind them and Grady announced he was going to shower. The heating system wasn’t great, and the shower was small, but the cold water felt like liquid relief on his skin, washing away the grime and turmoil of the previous night. He started crying halfway through his shower, burying his face in his hands and trying to keep the sobs from wracking his body, before he pulled himself together and turned off the water. The mutants had left a bag of toiletries and clothes around their size on one of the mattresses, and Grady changed into a large black shirt with the word ‘PLAYBOY’ written across it in bright yellow, a female model in lingerie posing beneath it. It wasn’t his style, but it was incredibly soft. He pulled on some briefs and shorts before sitting on one of the mattresses, staring at the wall across from him. He could hear the shower running, and a TV playing in the distance. 

_You’ll never see us again._

He closed his eyes, his mother’s voice clear as day. The images began flooding his mind. 

_Don’t leave me!_

_Wesley!_

_If you both don’t shut up, I’ll shoot him dead._

_I don’t want to die._

_Dad’s bleeding a lot! He isn’t waking up!_

_Looking for a certain angel, aren’t we?_

_Stop! Please Stop!_

_No! Give her back!_

_You’ll be dying with your parents tonight._

**_You’re not dying on me!_ **

**_You’ll all drop dead!_ **

A gentle hand on his shoulder startled Grady out of his daydream, gasping as he looked up in panic, only to see familiar green eyes.

_Are you okay?_ Wesley asked. He was freshly showered, his auburn curls wet. He wore a red gym-top, the sleeve holes big enough for his wings to comfortably stretch out. Grady let out a long sigh,

_I’m fine. Just tired._ He answered. Wesley nodded, understanding.

_I was going to make us something to eat. There’s pasta and sauce._ He signed. 

Grady nodded, 

_Sounds good. Need any help?_

Wes shook his head and smiled,

_I’ll be okay._

Grady watched from his spot on the mattress as Wesley began to methodically look through the kitchen, finding a pot and some salt and dried oregano. He sniffed the oregano, deeming it good enough, and began filling up the pot with water.

Wesley was fun to watch, Grady realized. For being such a huge guy, he was careful and quiet, his big feet padding softly across the wooden floor. Grady did raise his eyebrows when Wesley easily unscrewed the top of an unopened tomato sauce jar, suddenly reminded of his friend’s strength. He watched the whole process until Wesley started serving the pasta, after which he brought it over to the mattresses and they began to eat.

The food was fine, jarred tomato sauce and packet pasta, but they were both starving, wolfing the whole thing down within minutes. Grady took Wes’ plate and washed it in the sink, unaware of his friend watching him intently. He returned to the mattress afterwards, catching a glimpse of the sun starting to set through their only window, painting the sky a lovely orange. 

Wesley moved over, Grady sitting down across from his friend. The taller boy stared down at his hands, exhaustion etched into the circles under his eyes. He looked tired and vulnerable, his wings resting on the mattress at his sides. Grady fiddled with the hem of his Playboy shirt, rolling it between his fingers. He reached one leg out and gently nudged Wes’ leg, getting his attention.

_Are you scared?_ Grady asked.

_About what?_ Wesley countered,

_About… this? About fighting? About being… illegal revolutionary mutants?_ Grady elaborated, his shoulders slumping. 

Wesley sighed, scrunching up the material of his shorts in each hand. 

_I am. I’m kind of scared._ He answered. _Are you?_

Grady nodded. 

_Yeah._ He answered. _I’m scared. But I know it’s the right thing to do._

Wes nodded, although his expression seemed hesitant. Grady gazed at his friend, at his slightly turned up nose, his kind green eyes, his soft cheekbones and thin pink lips. He looked at his wings, resting beside him. He didn’t look like a revolutionary hero. He looked like an angel. 

‘What have I gotten you into?’ Grady thought, his chest tightening. But no, that wasn’t true. Wes chose Grady. He chose Grady over Aaron, he chose Grady over the only semblance of a family he ever had. The tightening in his chest released, and it was filled with nothing but warmth. He suddenly remembered something.

_Do you remember what you did, before you…_ Grady stopped, unable to finish the sentence. But Wesley understood, blushing. 

_Yeah._ He answered, keeping his gaze on his crossed legs. Grady felt warmth spread throughout his chest, his stomach fluttering.

_Did you mean it?_ Grady asked hesitantly. 

Green and black eyes met, and Grady saw Wes melt under his gaze.

_Yeah._ He signed. _I did._

He stared back at Grady, lips pursed together and shoulders slumping. 

_I’m sorry._

_No, don’t be sorry._ Grady answered. The shorter boy leaned forward, crawling on all fours until he was kneeling right in front of his best friend in the whole world. Wes stared at him with wide eyes, confusion and hope etched across his tired face. Grady felt nervous, really nervous. But nothing compared to the fear he had felt holding Wes the previous night. He could do this, he thought. 

_I liked it._ He signed, his hands shaking slightly. Wes’ eyes softened, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

_You did?_ He asked, his gaze doing terrible things to Grady’s heart. 

_I did._ He answered, bracing himself. _Do you think we… could I kiss you?_

Wesley’s smile widened, he nodded eagerly, reaching out to hold Grady’s arms, his green eyes bright with excitement. Grady started laughing, 

_Wait,_ he signed, _wait you’re too excited._ Grady pretended to fight Wes’ grip, giggling every time Wesley started pulling him close. The taller boy laughed too, his shoulders shaking silently, a small grunt even escaping when Grady grabbed his friend’s biceps and they started pushing, wrestling each other on the mattresses. Wes easily threw Grady down, but the short boy started poking his ribs, a well known tickle spot, and Wes started spasming, a loud unrestrained laugh echoing through the apartment as the taller boy fell on Grady. Grady laughed loudly, pushing Wes until he rolled off him, shaking with laughter. They were both breathing heavily, lying next to each other and smiling harder than they had smiled in days. Grady couldn’t remember feeling this happy in so long. 

Unthinkingly, he reached out and took Wes’ hand, interlacing their hands together, and they both squeezed, holding each other close. 

Grady turned his head, watching Wesley stare at their joined hands, a small smile on his face. 

‘I love him’, he thought suddenly, the thought hitting him like a full speed train. He reached out, cradling Wes’ cheek, and pulled him into a kiss. 

Wes felt thin, strong arms wrap themselves around his waist, his own circling Grady’s neck. One hand reached out and tangled itself in white speckled feathers. Wes’ breath hitched, the taller boy breathing out heavily before throwing one long leg over Grady’s hips, and Grady smiled into the kiss, pulling Wesley tightly against him. Wesley rolled them over, tangling both hands into dark curls, and kissed Grady deeply, the shorter teen feeling lightheaded at the solid weight pressing him into the mattress, his hands rubbing patterns over Wesley’s back. The kissing slowed, Wesley tracing his hands down to hold Grady’s face tenderly. He pulled back, staring down at dark dazed eyes and wet, kissed lips. Grady had never looked so beautiful, he thought. 

They stared at each other for a moment before Grady let out a small huff of laughter, setting them both into a fit of giggles. Smiling, Wesley leaned down and placed warm kisses on Grady’s face, his cheeks and jaw, making Grady sigh breathlessly. He eventually stopped, burying his face into Grady’s neck and digging his arms between Grady’s back and the mattress, pulling him into a tight hug. 

‘It’s going to be okay.’ Grady thought as he wrapped his arms around Wes’ shoulders. He closed his eyes as he dug one hand into auburn curls, feeling Wes’ warm breath against his neck. ‘As long as I’m with him, everything is going to be okay.’

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading through this fic! Please let me know what you think and if you would like for a continuation with the series! It would be looking at Wes and Grady as they become Wrench and Numbers, along with a lot of new yet familiar faces ;) Thank you so much once again! I hope you enjoyed!


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